


He's gotta have it

by Writing_basketballs



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Chubby Eddie Kaspbrak, F/M, Insecure Eddie Kaspbrak, Jealous Eddie Kaspbrak, Jealous Mike halon, Jealous Richie Tozier, Jealous Stanley Uris, M/M, Minor Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Polyamory, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, They're in they're 20s fyi, Y'all are sleeping on chubby Eddie kaspbrak, set in the 80s
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:21:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25723519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writing_basketballs/pseuds/Writing_basketballs
Summary: Eddie Kaspbrak can't decide what kind of man he wants to date, so he decides to date three at the same time. A blunder of sexuality, romance, and tension assured.OrThe She Gotta Have It AU nobody asked for.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly, Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak & Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak & Myra Kaspbrak, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Stanley Uris, Mike Hanlon/Eddie Kaspbrak
Comments: 11
Kudos: 22





	1. Nothing compares 2 U

**Author's Note:**

> YOU DONT HAVE TO WATCH THE MOVIE TO UNDERSTAND THE STORY ! But you should watch it because it's an amazing film exploring sexuality. :)
> 
> Wow wow okay hope you guys enjoy and comment if you did!

_I want you to know the only reason I'm consenting to this is because I wish to clear my name._

_Not that I care what people think, but enough is enough. And if in the end, it helps some other people out, well, then, that's fine, too. I consider myself normal,_

_whatever that means._

_Some people call me a freak._

_I hate that word. I don't believe in it. Better yet,_ _I don't believe in labels._

_But what are you gonna do?_

_This was the deal._

Eddie wasn't a freak; he just found his own set of the right men. Or more specifically, three men. Each having their own different personalities and benefaction, they each made Eddie equally happy. 

New York was a change of pace for Eddie Kaspbrak. He was beginning to finally understand what freedom really meant. Freedom was cemented in his relationships.

He would say something so different from heterosexual normality was likely in New York but it was still the 80s. Having multiple men was still considered inappropriate and sinful in 1982 but Eddie's men weren't just for casual sex. They were relationships; relationships he's become very fond of exclusively. 

The child in him manipulated and constantly antagonized by his own mother wouldn't have _dreamed_ of being apart of something so bizarrely comforting. More so, it being with men.

There was undeniably something Myra Simcox had out for Eddie but it never reciprocated in Eddie. He was interested in what sex was like with woman but not sex with Myra.

Mike Hanlon were one of the first men of his three on going relationships.

_MIKE HANLON_

_"I believe that there is only one person, one person in this world, who is meant to be your soulmate, your lifelong companion. The irony is rarely do these two people hook up. They just wander about aimlessly. But if you're lucky, and you do find that person, you can't blow it. Eddie_ _was that person."_

Eddie licks his lips, flavored and raw from kissing Mike seconds ago. They were drawn into each other like the lovers they were, Eddie nestled in the crooked of Mike's neck.

"Deep. Do you really mean that?" 

Mike holds his hand out and nods solemnly. "I swear to God on my grandfather's bible." Eddie watches him with those big dreamy eyes of his before hopping up to retrieve his candles. 

"Where are you going honey?" 

"I'm getting my candles!" And Mike could hear Eddie's mischievous smile. 

It was like a ritual. Eddie only made love in his bed with the candles lit. It set a mood that was erotic, raw, honest, and warm. So when he says he's retrieving his candles, Mike begins peeling off his white undershirt. He knew Eddie well enough to know what his candles were used for.

Mike's sprawled against his bed in nothing but his draws. Eddie's done lighting the dozen candles preoccupying his room. He stands in front of Mike who grabs at his hips affectionately. 

"Take off your clothes sugar." 

Without hesitation, Eddie strips out of his own undershirt for Mike with ease and is pulled onto him. Mike's hands were bigger and stronger than Eddie's and were more comforting too. He liked the way Mike pulled him down the hips with those big hands of his. Mike was a gentle giant. He towered Eddie in both height and weight but was much more gentle in their passionate relationship. 

"I Love you." Eddie says in-between kisses.

"Me?"

"Mm-hm. But I'm running on E." Eddie says against his mouth. 

Mike breathes out a laugh, kissing back. "You're always running in E." 

Mike smells distinctly of aftershave and wood. heat bloomed in Eddie's chest. He was very fond of the way Mike smelled. He smelled clean and rugged in a way that could arouse Eddie just by inhaling his scent.

They stay locked at the lips, filled with nothing but primal desire and passion built within each other. Mike Hanlon was nothing like the other men Eddie's been seeing. He was full of constant reassurance and warmth, something that set Eddie's heart aflame. He knew when to be rough and he knew when to be kind and generous. 

They stayed kissing for what seemed like hours. Mike's the one who swaps their positions with Eddie now lying under him against his made up bed. Mike trails his lips further to the crook of Eddie's neck to lay hickies and small pecks against his sensitive skin. Eddie buttons his bottom lip, splaying his hands over Mike's broad back. It was still dewy and wet from his shower but radiated warmth. 

Eddie brings his hand to his hair and curls his thin fingers into Mike's kinky curls. Mike in return grunts skittishly. He grins and splays his hands on either side of Mike's face to position a kiss against his lover's lips. Eddie hums as he does before Mike pulls back. 

Mike pulls away to kiss against Eddie's chest, pressing further to his belly, which got pudgy after letting himself indulge in his newfound freedom. Eddie was still embarrassed of the new soft definition to his body but he admits it's better than being his mother's weight. 

Mike grins up at Eddie before kissing his belly tenderly, very aware at how uneasy Eddie was of his new pudginess. He melts under his kisses and laughs softly. Mike's hands trace his slight love handles and further to his hips to grab a hold of. 

"You have a really nice back, Mike." Eddie mutters, as his hands smooth over said back.

"Thanks?"

"Mm." Eddie smiles as Mike slowly and steadily tugs off Eddie's ripped denim jeans. He didn't mind Mike taking his time. In fact, he enjoyed how Mike wanted to watch him fall apart under his gaze. Eddie and Mike were always _making love_ ; it felt too personal and thoughtful to be casual sex.

"Mike, honey, I need you." Eddie whines, as his hand curls back into his crimped curls. 

"I know baby, just wait. I want you ready for me." Mike mutters against the skin under his navel. He's successfully tugged Eddie's pants completely off him and moving to his own draws. He slips them off effortlessly and Mike surges forward to tenderly plant kisses against Eddie's thighs. He sucks red blotchy marks in Eddie's inner thighs getting Eddie to moan weakly. 

"You know you're beautiful, Eddie?" Mike hums with his hands sailing into Eddie's hair. Eddie in return just whines quietly. Warmth and pleasure boiling in the pit of his stomach. 

"Do you, Eddie?" He asks again, one hand now tenderly cupping Eddie's cheek. He blushed red hot in embarrassment. He did, sometimes, think he was beautiful. It wasn't an awful lot with his mother's voice drilled in his head to constantly antagonizing him. 

"Eddie you're a peach." Mike smiles warmly down at his lover. Eddie adored that nickname. Sometimes Mike would call him a peach; those sweet delectables from Georgia. Raw and delicious straight from the tree it hangs on. It was a gooey feeling being called a peach by Mike so he grins lovingly back at him. 

"You're so lovely, Eds'. I wish you knew that." He kisses his knuckles tenderly and Eddie's breath is caught in his throat. 

"You're so handsome honey." Mike's hands trail down either side of Eddie's body and firmly land on his sides. Eddie squirms under his grip, sure that Mike could feel his newfound fat.

"You're so beautiful. You know that Eddie? You're such a wonderful man." He swoops in to firmly but gently kiss against Eddie's lips. It's amazing how Mike's hand could easily lay over Eddie's entire belly with his hulking hand. It was a small gesture but Eddie freezes against his it.

"What's wrong Eddie?"

"My- your. Uh." He stutters but looks down at his hand lying against Eddie's belly carelessly. Mike follows his gaze and hums. 

"That's what you're worried about?"

Eddie relaxes after Mike says that. Mike removes his hand and his warmth quickly withdraws with Mike's hand. He feels cold.

"Eddie, I don't care. Do I look like I should care?" He chuckles. Mike Hanlon was no gym rat. He would occasionally show up but not as much as his ex roomate's boyfriend. Mike was more leaner and broad than Eddie was. He wasn't necessarily chubby like him was but you could where his abs developed. Mike was as manly as they came. He was ruggedly handsome, broad, hairy, tall, and strong. He was the ideal man. Eddie never completely understood what Mike saw in him.

Eddie chuckles breathlessly but Mike draws him in for another kiss. 

"I meant what I said about you being Handsome, Eddie. Every part of you, honey." He mumbles, pressing a smooch against his cheek, closely to his ear. Eddie's lips curl upward. And his erection much more prominent than ten minutes ago.

"Mm. Let me make you feel good." Mike says. His voice was deep, something that rang in your ear and felt deep in your chest. Eddie's own voice was nowhere like Mike's. His might of been an octave higher.

"Yes. Yes please." Eddie begs. Mike was preoccupied with his mouth against where Eddie's hip and side connected and sucked on his sensitive flesh. Eddie mewls and _melts_ against Mike's mouth casually sucking on such sensitive skin. 

_"Mikey."_ Eddie Bleats, aroused. Mike let's go with a wet pop and strays further to Eddie's erected penis. It was of average length of six inches. It wasn't all too big or too small. It was curved upwards and _throbbing._

Eddie needed Mike bad, and that's exactly what he'd receive.

________

  
Eddie had his head on top of his crossed arms, lying against his stomach. Mike laid next to him on his side with his head in his hands. He looked like he was studying Eddie. 

The candles were still lit around Eddie's bed which illuminated off Mike's Sepia Brown skin and Eddie's flushed honey skin. 

"Eddie?" Mike whispers.

"Yeah?" 

"What can i give you?" 

Eddie thinks about it silently and smiles up at Mike. "A massage?"

"A massage?"

"Mm-hm." Eddie still felt floaty from his orgasm. He yawns and presses his head into his arms to relax. He feels Mike shift in his bed and begins massaging Eddie's shoulders. Eddie moans softly and flutters his eyes closed. 

"How's that feel?" 

"You have the serious touch." Eddie muses tiredly. "A lot of men I've dealt with don't know a thing about how to touch a man. But not you." He mumbles. 

He can feel Mike smile at his compliment but he stops kneading his skin.

"Sweetness?" 

"Yeah Mikey?"

"Why can't we do things like this at my place?" Mike asks and Eddie sighs. They've been over this thing before but it always ended the same. "Because I can only do it in my own bed." 

Mike hums after a string of silence. "It has magical powers?" 

Eddie chuckles and nods. "Of course it does. GoodNight." And he rolls off the bed to blow his lights out.

___________

  
  
_BEVERLY MARSH_

  
_"Eddie and I used to be roommates,_ _until we had this slight falling out. No, actually, it was a big falling out. But_ _we're okay now, we're still friends, but not roommates. I had a boyfriend, and sometimes he would spend the night, usually on a weekend. But Eddie! Jesus,_ _I couldn't keep track. I'd get_ _up in the morning and I'd run_ _into all these strange men in my bathroom. When we talked about it, he said, "Look, I found the place, so if you can't hang, leave. Bye." So, I said bye and I got this studio. Now_ , _I haven't spoken to him in a while and I kind of miss em'."_

Beverly Marsh was one of Eddie's first real friends moving to Brooklyn. They were great friends but their ideology weren't in line to stay roommates. Beverly had Ben Hanscom and Eddie had his own affairs. 

Beverly would say it didn't bother her but it did. All the strange half-naked men she'd wake up to in their kitchen making breakfast, or caught doing _something_ in their tight knit bathroom. She couldn't couldn't keep up with Eddie's sex drive so she split; found herself her own studio that was two blocks away from Eddie's.

It was crazy how little they ran into each other being so close to one another. 

They did stay friends. They haven't talked to each other in months but they did have their numbers written up, so calling was an option. 

All it took was a matter of one calling the other.

___________

  
_"In my experiences, I've found two types of men, the decent ones and the dogs._

_It seems that men are taught not to be in touch with themselves, with their true feelings, but the things that they do say? Weak!"_

Eddie was very aware of the dogs all over Brooklyn, New York. He's had his many run-ins with them all across town and all the way to Staten Island. In Derry, it was bold be out after what happened to the gay couple at Derry Maine's annual carnival. So the dogs were only after the girls of Derry, preying on them like savages.

But in Brooklyn, they'd walk up to you without a second thought, _begging_.

_"Baby. You're so fine, I'd drink a tub of your bath water."_

Or, 

_"I just wanna rock your world."_

Whatever corny pick-up line it was, Eddie knew right away they were the dogs. The hungry look in their eyes and mouth snarled almost like wolves. Howling and whatnot in the streets of Brooklyn with a new or unoriginal punchline to grab at Eddie's attention. It was a new yet old and tiring concept in Eddie's life. 

The dogs were _tiring._

Mike wasn't a dog; He was one of the decent ones. They met at a small little shopping district in town and it was Mike who sawt out Eddie. Eddie, enthralled with his attention, began the chase. 

It was fun for him. Eddie walked down the sidewalks of Brooklyn New York with the few items he picked up from the shopping district and noticed Mike, as handsome as he was, following him. He could _feel_ Mike watching him as he chased Eddie at a distance. This handsome man Eddie's never seen before fancied him right away. 

His exact first words to Eddie were: "are you following me?" Because it was made clear that Eddie was _aware_ of Mike following him and cornered them in a dead end alley. Eddie grins, amused, at his statement. "I was never following you. You followed me." 

Mike thinks for a moment and his lips melt into a shy smile. "Oh. Right." That gets Eddie to chuckle and put his hands on either side of his hips. "So?" 

Eddie could see him flush now that he had his undivided attention. 

"So like, _I know it sounds corny, but, if I didn't follow you, I might not ever see you again."_ And in response, Eddie's face breaks into a sincere grin, ears burning at the tips.

"Yeah, that is corny." He replies and Mike chuckles. He looks down at Eddie nervously and licks his bottom lip thoughtfully.

"So? Was it worth it?"

"I don't know." 

"You don't know?"

Eddie shrugs, his eyes scanning Mike's entire being in one swift motion. "It's Way too early to tell." 

"What's your name?"

"Edward."

"Likewise. Mike." He smiles gently and shakes Eddie's hand firmly before Eddie snorts.

"You don't say likewise exchanging names, Mike. Nothing about Eddie and Mike are likewise." Eddie explains with a wistful grin still struck across his face.

"Well, I don't know. I thought you were.sounds' like something you say to someone you'd like."

Eddie laughs at that. "Well, now you know not to."

Mike stares at Eddie for a good while before talking again. "Eddie, I don't want to chance not seeing you again. Whatever you wanna do, I'll do, wherever you wanna go, I'll take you. Will you see me?"

Without a word, Eddie just begins smiling. His smile must be telling more than he suspected. Because Mike's lips slowly start hiking upward in happiness.

"You will? You'll have me?" 

And laughing again, Eddie nods and Mike grins. Eddie can't help but think the world was a much better place with Mike Hanlon's smile in his life. He knew right there, Mike Hanlon was someone he could depend on, someone to care for; a lover.

From that moment on, Mike was Eddie's. Most days for Mike, that wasn't good enough. He wanted Eddie to himself, not shared between two other men he didn't even know. But Eddie was hard headed and refused to slim his relationships up to just one of the men he was involved with.

Eddie was not like Mike, who believed in one. he didn't believe in soulmates. In his eyes, quantity equaled quality. The more the merrier. 

And that's the way it was gonna stay for a long time with Eddie Kaspbrak. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Why you wanna treat me so bad?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna change all my chapter names to prince songs so if you notice then cool.  
> But jeez, I'm trying to give myself a 5 day dead line to update this fic bc my class act one crashed and burned pretty much. 
> 
> BUT hope you enjoy! I really enjoy writing abt Richie ! :) Ty ty for staying this long! Yeesh I'm really hoping for more comments tho lmao

_RICHIE TOZIER_

_"What about Eddie Kaspbrak? What do you want to know? I thought he was a freak. You know, freaky-deaky? You ask why'd I continue to see him? Do I look like a retard? I'm not crazy. The sex was def. Eddie had the goods and he knew what to do. Look, all men want freaks. We just don't want them for a wife."_

Richie Tozier was a trashmouth bike messager that was one of Eddie's three suitors. He was a rambunctious, skinny and tall thing with sharp features and an even sharper tongue. He wasn't as tall at Mike and nowhere as broad, but he was as much taller to Eddie comparable to Mike. He usually wore basketball shorts and whatever wrinkled shirt he tossed up his bedroom floor and the only clean thing he ever owned; his infamous prized Air Jordan 1's. He made clean and organized people shiver at the impressive amounts of wrinkles on almost every colorful and odd shirt he owned. He did standup at hole in the wall bars if he wasn't zipping around New York carrying company items. 

Richie expectedly was almost Mike's polar opposite. He didn't necessarily believe in one, all he cared about a good time. He was fast talking, witty and unusual. He was a nice change of pace. He wasn't as delicate and caring as Mike, but he knew how to make Eddie laugh and where to ruffle Eddie's feathers. Besides Richie's obnoxious behavior, he was a charming man, something Eddie immediately took interest in. He told Eddie funny stories and knew exactly how to cheer him up. 

Anything done with Richie was never boring. He could somehow find a way to make a visit to the library the most exciting thing you've done all week.

Sex with Tozier was mind fucking as well as physical. They conversed and laughed while they made love. Richie would say some unusual mind boggling question as he hit Eddie's prostate, it left Eddie in a combination of confusion, warmth, and pleasure. Sex with Richie was _never_ boring. It was insightful, fun, and abnormal. So when Eddie'd orgasm, he feel it loose and light while his head was spinning from Richie's stupid yet insightful questions.

"Finally, I've been wondering when you'd finally let me up here." Richie scoffed. Eddie had finally let Richie into his place for the first time. It's not like he'd bring just anyone up to his studio.

"I don't let just anybody up here, Rich. You know that."

"Oh, so I'm just anybody now?"

"Well you're up here aren't you?" Eddie puts his hands on hips, watching Richie handle his bike inside closely. "Watch the table Richie, that was expensive."

"Yeah, yeah."

Eddie's studio was a sacred place for him. It was his own place to be himself; free. He was no longer intruded on by his mother and he brought whatever men he _chose_ was worthy of being in Eddie Kaspbrak's safe space. So he took time to figure out if Richie was gonna be compatible enough to be brought into Eddie Kaspbrak's blest abode.

"So this whole place is yours, huh?" Richie clicks his tongue. He cranes his neck to get a look of every angle of Eddie's living space. 

"Yeah."

"I likes, I likes." He hums. Richie finally parks his bike and stands much more taller. 

"Y'know, if you want, we could totally room together Eds'. I can see it now. Although, it sounds like a very overrated porn trope. Roomies who blow each other every now and then and eventually the landlord to pay rent." And Eddie rolls his eyes, but laughs lightly. 

"Why is it everytime I bring a man up here they wanna move in?" 

Richie hums thinking about it as he pulls Eddie to him but his hips. "Well, you work, you got a nice crib and you're fine." He smirks looking down at his lover.

"You make it sound like I want to take care of a man. What makes you think that?"

Richie looks flustered yet unbothered by the assumption. "Y'know I didn't say that." 

"Please. I'm not looking for a Meal ticket."

Richie does laugh at that. "Eds', you're not like any other man I've met."

"And you're like the other men I meet and bring up here. You get invited in once and suddenly you're looking for a roommate. How tired." Eddie taps his nose and rips himself from Richie's grip. 

"You're fine Eddie! And responsible as shit, no way you've ever forgotten to pay rent." Eddie's lips smirk upward wickedly. 

"No way of course." 

"Then of course I'd wanna room. That's like the perfect combination for a roommate." Richie huffs, setting his Bike down.

"That _sounds_ like the perfect combination for a husband, Chee'. And I'm not in the market to be tied down quite yet."

"Boy, don't I know it." Richie muses in a huff. One of Eddie's eyebrows raise, impressively. 

"And y'know, when the time is finally right, I'm having _five busty boys_." Eddie smiles warmly. He could talk to Richie about things like that.

"Well, babes, they won't be having both our genetics. That's a load of their conscience, huh?" Richie presses a wet kiss to Eddie's cheek.

"Oh yeah. A blessing to not receive our looks combined." Eddie giggles.

"The kid would look like a fucking _molerat_." Richie jokes and Eddie's laughter excels louder and genuine. 

Eddie laughs because that was far from the truth. Richie was a good looking man. Behind those thick square glasses, he had an exceptionally pretty face. Nice cheekbones and bright, squinty eyes. Even long eyelashes to compliment them. He had a wide smile, thin nose, and full lips. Big, luscious dark curls to accompany said pretty face. So he doubted any child with Richie's gene won't end up as ugly as he puts out to be. Children with his own genes? He wasn't as confident with them being as gorgeous as someone with Richie's genetics. 

"There's something about you." Eddie muses in their silence.

"About me?"

Eddie's eyes land on Richie's. "Yeah, you." 

"Good or bad?"

"Haven't figured it out yet." He shrugs.

"You'll let me know though, right?"

"You'll be the first to know." A smile threatening his lips.

Richie scoops Eddie in his arms with a big goofy smile playing on his lips. "You'll let me know? Eddie, you'll let me know?" He asks, shaking Eddie lightly in his arms. 

"Uh-huh. Yeah." A smile finally breaking free and playing on Eddie's lips.

"You'll let me know?" Richie asks flaunting his crooked teeth for Eddie to see. 

"Yeah!" Eddie laughs, slapping Richie's chest lightly.

"Good!" And without a seconds thought, Richie's mouth is placed on Eddie's neck. He blows a wet, loud raspberry and Eddie _screams_.

"Richie!" He laughs.

"That's not the magic word!" He sing-songs before blowing another one. Eddie thrashes in his arms, laughing loudly. 

"You're a prick, Tozier!" 

"Now that's just plain rude baby!" Richie chuckles and releases his lips from Eddie's neck with a wet _'pop!'_ Eddie catches his breath and shoves Richie away playfully. He wouldn't admit it out loud but he enjoyed Richie's company. He was fun to have around. 

"Hey." Richie hums.

"What?"

"Wanna do a little freaky sneaky, Eds? Won't tell any of your boy-toys a word." He waggles his eyebrows and clicks his tongue, comically. Eddie could never really take him seriously.

"Rich, you don't even know them." Eddie chuckles. Richie held Eddie to his chest with his hands laying absently on his butt.

"Exactly! So I can't even tell em' a word!" Richie laughs. He suddenly picks Eddie up by his bottom and Eddie yelps in a quick protest. Richie throws him onto his bed and Eddie screams again. Richie was always man handling him. 

"Richard Tozier!" Eddie shrieks, lying on his back. Richie crawls on top of him. He looked disgusted.

"Don't call me by my government name before you blow my brains out." Richie scoffs.

Eddie rolls his eyes but doesn't urge him to stop. Richie presses his lips hungrily to Eddie's cheek, then his lips. "Mm, I could just eat you up Spaghetti." And to make it seem convincing, Richie nibbles at Eddie's earlobe, growling lightly. Eddie let's Richie kiss him for a few more minutes before he feels slender fingers tug at the hem of his shirt. Eddie's eyes widen and pulls away, pulling his shirt down roughly.

"Wha-"

"Maybe we can later, Rich?" Eddie says quietly. He was gonna tell him to leave anyway. But he wasn't ready for Richie to see him naked again. "I gotta see Myra today anyway." He mumbles quietly. 

"Mrya? Who the hell is Myra?"

"Bye, Richie." Eddie says firmly. That was the same reaction he got from Mike after he was telling him some ridiculous thing Myra told him. 

Richie huffs and puts his hands on his hips. "Are you mad?"

Calmly, Eddie goes, "No." 

"You sure you're fine?"

"Yes, Richie."

Richie pulls him in by the hips and presses a gentle kiss in the center of Eddie's scalp. "You'll tell me if you're not, Right?" 

"Yes."

"You'll tell me?" Richie smiles.

Laughing, Eddie nods. "Yes!"

"Good." With a pleased smile, he leans down to kiss Eddie on the lips which Eddie happily reciprocates.

__________

  
  
Mike was sitting at a bench, hands bunched together and eyebrows scrunched in something of displeasure and thought. He was thinking of Eddie, of course. But not necessarily Eddie himself that caused him to look so distraught.

More like Eddie and his other suitors. Specifically, a certain _friend_ of his. 

  
_"It was bad enough, Eddie and all his male friends, but there was also this one particular female who was after him, and that was a bit much. I had my suspicions about their relationship, so I asked him point-blank if anything was happening. He said no. I know you're thinking how do I know he was telling the truth. Well, Eddie couldn't lie, even if he wanted to. It wasn't his nature. He could be brutally honest."_

  
_MYRA GILSTRAP_

_"You're not born lesbian or heterosexual. Both traits are within us. We all have the potential to go either way. At a young age, I knew where my preference was and I pursued it. Eddie may have been gay_ _I just want him to be open-minded. Check it out. Then decide. That's all."_

Myra was a woman of want, like Eddie. She was a very decisive and picky woman. She met Eddie at University when they were both majoring in literature and eventually became friends. She liked taking care of people and Eddie liked to be taken care of. Their relationship was completely built on mutualism; based on give and receive. So every now and then when Eddie felt troubled, Myra was there. She enjoyed being needed. It was nice.

"You didn't have to show up, Myra." Eddie eventually became sick in the past 24 hours with no one to take care of him. He would have called Mike first but Myra seemed like a better option. He didn't want to kiss Mike and get him sick. He eventually did text Mike subsequently calling Myra after reconsideration.

"Oh, it's no problem Eddie." She smiles sweetly, opening the can of chicken soup. She leaned against his counter, cross legged before standing back up straight. She goes to the stove to pour Eddie a glass of hot tea to heal his sore throat. She walks over to his bed to hand him his glass carefully. "Here, drink that. It'll make you feel better in no time."

"You're a saint Myra." He praises before carefully sipping on his warm green tea. Myra smiles at Eddie and sits next to him. The tea was lousy with lemon and honey which sweetened it just right.

He moans in delight. "Mm, this is good. Thanks Marty."

"Well you shouldn't be up here bed ridden with no one to take care of you." She huffs, taking the cup from Eddie's hands after sipping it. Myra was a stout young thing. She was actually a year Eddie's senior like Mike but she looked younger. She was plump in her breasts and hips with a pudgy middle. She had big blonde hair and squinting, almond eyes contrast to Eddie's big round ones. She was much shorter than Eddie too, being only 5'5 while Eddie was at 5'9. She was a good looking girl; not so much beautiful but decent looking. 

"No need to worry, Mike comes by every other day." And just like that, Myra narrows her eyes at Eddie and set his cup on his night stand.

"Mike?" She says. It nearly sounded like unpredictable resentment. 

Eddie just smiles and shakes his head. "Don't worry about it Mart, I'll be up and walking again in no time." He sniffs. 

Myra's expression goes dark while looking at Eddie in observation before smiling in that sunshine-ey way she pulls. "Hey, what are you thinking?"

Eddie stares back at Myra with obvious interest at her question. Foraging her expression to ask exactly what was on his mind. He looks away and starts smiling. He looks back at Myra, one corner of his mouth pulled upward.

"What's it like making love to a woman?"

Myra's eyes bug and she's choked up, grinning. _"What?"_

Eddie's cheek flush with embarrassment, knowing it was a stupid question. He shakes his head quickly as his cheeks burn red. "Never mind, forget I asked." 

"No way! You wanna know what it's like to make love to a _woman_?" She sounded like this was unbelievably comical yet enticing.

"You wanna know what it's like to make love to a woman?" She asks again. Eddie might as well own up to it. He gazes up shyly and nods. "You heard."

"Why do you ask?" Her interest immediately taken. She gazes at Eddie, hooked on his every little word. 

"Because if you wanna know something, you ask someone who _knows_." He rasps. His voice was froggy from his sickness. Myra found it weirdly endearing. 

"And because I'm curious." He admits. It felt weird talking to Myra about a woman's way of making love.

She squints her eyes and laughs. "How curious?" It was bold and suggestive, but Myra was infatuated with Eddie Kaspbrak; no matter if he's never been with a women. Though that theory wasn't so believable to her. He wanted to know and she could provide him with the answers. 

"Relax, Myra. You got the wrong idea." Eddie scoffs. He looked annoyed and flustered at best. Myra looks at him impassively with her eyes burning onto his lips.

"Do I?" It sounded like a whisper but loud and clear to Eddie. 

"Somehow, Eddie, I think you've already got your answer." She scans him one more time as she talks with a catty smile dancing on her lips. "Someone who likes sex as much as you do? I imagine you would." It was a little jab at his sexual misconducts but it was honestly what Myra thought of Eddie's sex life. She was brutality aware of all the men Eddie kept in his little black book. 

Eddie's eyes flew back to Myra with sudden anger at her statement. "And what makes you say that?" 

She smiles back and looks at him easily. "I have eyes."

Eddie shrugs it off and tched, smiling habitually sarcastic. "Oh right." 

"You've seriously never been with a woman?" It was honest curiosity from Myra.

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Are you deaf? I said no." He stares at her with his eyebrows furrowed slightly. Myra noticed the wrinkles starting to form on his forehead. He relaxes and schools his brows so they were no longer stressing his forming wrinkles. "C'mon, tell me something Myra." 

She hunched over to him with her feet pointing in his direction. "I can tell you something it's not _. It's not some musty man pounding away inside of you a mile a minute."_ Myra sounded surprisingly bitter at her description. Eddie laughs humorously. 

"Well what's wrong with that?"

"Well, nothing. I love men too, Eddie. But women just aren't the same as men."

"Well of course. Woman have nothing to pound away inside you with." He smirks. "Wait. So that's it?" He sounded amused.

Myra shrugs. "That's the best I can do. If you wanna find out for yourself, that's all on you." Her eyes glittered with mischief. Eddie thought there was no way little miss Virgin Mary was coming on to _him_. 

"I still can't believe you've never been with a woman, Eddie. I just can't believe that!" Myra raved, rested her hand on his leg indelicately. 

"Drop it, Myra." He instructs sternly which he very much meant. 

"Okay. It's been dropped." Her lips pull upward big and eagerly as she winks. "For now. You'll come around. Eventually."

Eddie shakes his head and huffs. "You really think so?" It was meant to be rhetorical but apparently not enough if Myra did supply him with an answer. She nods, looking at Eddie with Big, eager eyes.

Before getting a chance to reply, there's a knock at the door. Myra stares at Eddie for a few more seconds before getting up to open the door to Eddie's guest. She presses against the door before shouting, "who?"

A voice, distinctly masculine and deep hollars back, "Mike! Who are you?" Ignoring Mike's comment, Myra opens Eddie's front door for Mike to enter. They have a short, intimate staring contest at the front door before Mike's expression hikes upward into his usual sunny expression. 

"Hey sweetness. I got you some things from the store." Eddie smiles up at his lover's with gratitude. "Aw, thanks Mikey, thats means a lot." He mummers, bed ridden. Mike sits next to him and envelopes Eddie into his arms. Eddie wraps his arms around Mike's waist, humming. "You're the best medicine in the world." He mumbles as Mike positions a comforting kiss to Eddie's neck. They let go of each other and Eddie's smiling at Mike, then at Myra.

"Myra was nice enough to sit with me all day while you were out." He sniffles and Myra sits back and smiles at his praising. Mike looks back at Myra impassively. "Oh? Did she now?" 

Eddie nods and yawns. He was growing tired. "Thanks, Myra but I got it from here. Thanks again." It was still a novel for Eddie to see Mike Hanlon get so sick with jealousy. He wasn't all that appreciative of it considering his other two relationships were also a part of Mike's seething jealousy. Mike didn't like Eddie being shared; he wanted him to himself. It was possessive but he felt the same way about Mike. He knew it was hypocritical to claim Mike as just Eddie's since he himself was involved with multiple relationships and it was greedy. But he wanted Mike, Richie and Stanley to be _his._

"Myra, you can stay as long as you want." Eddie says, ignoring Mike's words. Mike caresses his cheek and smiles tightly. "Eddie, I was just letting her know if she wants to leave, she can."

Mrya was leaning on Eddie's counter again, watching the two in each other's arms, closely. "That's alright. Eddie and I had _a lot_ of fun together." Her eyes were sharp and witchy. Mike seems to visually perk up at the way Myra says ' _a lot'_ so enticingly. "What kind of fun?" Mike didn't waste his gaze on Myra but schooled on Eddie. He was heavy lidded and didn't think much about what Mike was getting at. 

" _Fun_ fun." Myra pipes up from her spot. Mike's eyes still narrowed on Eddie. "Yeah, we had fun." Eddie hums. "Hey, Mikey," he yawns. "Can you get me my medicine from the cabinet? I'm about to take a nap." Eddie shuffles into a position on his side with his arms pillowing his head. Mike nods and gets up walking over to Myra.

"We should leave. Eddie's getting some rest and I'll watch him." Mike suggested. Myra stares back at him, unimpressed. 

"I like nursing Eddie." She replies sharply.

"If you like to nurse, go to the hospital. See ya'. Close the door on your way out." 

That's when Myra starts to smile bitterly. Her gaze has yet to fall from Mike's. "Do I _threaten_ you? Afraid Eddie might seek out _other things_?" 

" _Other things_? Eddie's gay."

She huffs in amusement. "Is that what you think?" 

"...Goodbye, Myra." Mike agreed they were a bit too comfortable with each other. Maybe Eddie wasn't gay. Maybe he's been with a woman; Maybe it was with Myra. The way Eddie had relationships, there was no telling.

"This isn't over, Mike." Myra says. It wasn't a threat; It was a _promise_. She grabs her cardigan from the back of Eddie's kitchen chair and storms out his studio. She leaves with nothing but the smell of her warm Vanilla fragrance still wafting in the air. Mike looks over at Eddie asleep and snoring softly. Usually, he'd smile and cuddle up next to Eddie but what Myra said was still echoing in his mind.

_Is that what you think?_

Was that supposed to mean something? That Eddie and her _did_ something Eddie does with the men he was seeing exclusively? Is there something Eddie wasn't telling Mike about himself? That drew the line. He storms to get Eddie's medicine he requested and sat next to Eddie and shook him awake. 

"Mike, what the hell?" He mumbled groggily. He wipes the sleep out his eyes before he begins sitting up. He looks around his loft, eyebrows knit together. "Where's Myra?" 

Mike's expression shadows ambivalence. "Well I'll be a son of a bitch." Eddie looks at him confused. "What? What's up with you?" He was taking note of Mike's sudden resentment of his blonde friend. 

"What's _up_ with you and Myra? Are you guys friends?" Eddie rolled his eyes. "Yes, we're just friends, Mike."

"What kind of friends?"

Eddie stares at him sardonically. "Oh my God! It's not like that at all. Well, she's interested in me but I told her it's not like that." He explains. Mike stares at him, composed, before speaking again. "Well I don't like her."

"She's done nothing wrong. You know she can't compete with you, Mike." He smiles gently before enveloping Mike into a hug. They stay like that for a while before Eddie has to take his Medicine.

________

The day after Eddie's sickness was his birthday. He no longer felt stiff, sticky, and hot like the day before, which was perfect timing to celebrate his birthday. He sprung out of bed ecstatically with his plans to celebrate with Mike. Eddie showers for ten minutes and gels his golden chocolate-ty tuffs of hair stiffly and side-parted. He wiggles into a pair of loose high-waisted jeans and an even looser white _Dodgers 42_ Jersey. He tucks his shirt in skillfully and loops a black belt on to complete his look. He kicks on clean white K Swiss sneakers and studied himself in the mirror and found it was an appropriate outfit to see Mike. He grabs his studio and car keys, wallet, and sprays himself in a coat of expensive cologne before he makes his way to see Mike.

 _It's a surprise, Eddie._ Is what Mike told him before leaving yesterday. He promised Eddie to take him somewhere he claims he'd enjoy for his birthday if he got better by the next day. Rightfully so, Eddie did get better and his surprise was back in action. After Mike's suspicions of Eddie and Myra's relationship yesterday, he did drop it. After Eddie told him Myra didn't have a chance compared to him, he didn't say anything about it afterwards and dropped his outward suspicions of the two like a bad habit. He didn't say a word about it when they met for Eddie's birthday but he was more quiet and observant of Eddie than he was before.

"Happy birthday sweetness." Mike says warmly before pressing a gentle kiss on Eddie's cheek. Eddie grins at the affection given and swoops in to hug him tightly. They walked together to a little forestry area near Eddie's studio complex that he's had his weekly morning jogs through. 

Eddie's arms fall from Mike's shoulders when he turns at the extravagant display of colorful balloons and streamers fly from the more quieted part of the park and he gasps. A little picnic blanket was set with wine and whatnot inside the picnic basket, and a black man and woman- who he assumes are a part of Mike's gift- are standing still and smiling from their place on their rock-made stage. 

Mike takes Eddie's hand and guides him to sit on the picnic blanket. Mike sits beside Eddie with his arm swung over his shoulders casually before pressing a smooch lovingly onto his cheek. 

"Hit it!"

A wistful, jazz melody plays and the graceful black dancers performed a beautiful Ballet for the two audience members. Eddie enjoyed the dancing and cheered. He was enthralled with Mike's thoughtful sentiment to piece together such a wonderful evening for him and graciously rewarded him a kiss on the lips. They stayed locked at the lips for 10 seconds too long before Eddie pulls away. 

"Thank you Mike." He whispered warmly. Mike smiles and pressed his hands on either side of Eddie's face to press a quick yet tender kiss into his locks.

"Anything for you, Eds'."

The dancers come over with a white frosted cake, and in messy blue icing words, it reads _happy birthday Eddie!_ Eddie prims up his mouth and beams. He completely forgot about the sacred tradition to blow out your birthday candles every birthday. It was insanitary, without a doubt, but it's his _birthday._ He should be able to do something as insanitary as blowing his bacteria ridden breath to blow out his candles simply because he's willing to once a year, dammit.

So he does as inspected and blows out his candles out with a gust of stored breath. The candles-he realizes, are trick candles. They're blown out for only a second before being reborn like a phoenix. Instead of ranting and berating about how trick candles are cruel pranks to play on _anyones birthday, especially the elderly because at their age they're more likely to struggle with breathing,_ he can't. He blinks, mouth thin-lipped and small, watches the trick candles aflame still melting the colorful wax.

Despite everything so _wrong_ in this situation, he laughs. He laughs because he's so happy to even receive a spectacular day in the park like this with a hunk of man beside him. He laughs because even though it _is_ cruel to use trick candles on anyone's birthday, it's still fucking hilarious. 

Eddie's laughing so hard, he's on his back clutching his belly. Mike and the dancers and chuckling with amusement but not like Eddie was. That moment in time felt like everything was inline. The aesthetic of the breezy, warm spring afternoon, where the sun shines just right. The feeling when you're next to someone you love and who loves you _back._ How you pray to God that the warm, golden honey skies never change colors and that you can pause time to make them last. 

Eddie prayed, and prayed as the sun warmed his face and brighten every single one of Mike's features. He prayed that he could feel as satisfied as he did in the moment, every other second for as long as he breathed.

He's been waiting his entire life to be satisfied like that.

_________

  
They finish the day with Mike and Eddie lying faced to each other. Mike's long, meaty fingers rubbing soothingly against Eddie's cheek. He smiled down at him, heavy lidded, gentle and content. "Eddie, you're a peach." He hums "the sweetest, tastiest one there is." Eddie smiles back with genuine sweetness and a touch of shyness. His eyes are glazed and illuminated from the ember glow of his lit candles. 

He licks his bottom lip, fancied for a taste of Mike's against his own. He leans in slowly, and just before their lips meet, his payphone goes off in a loud, nerve wracking buzz. He rolls his eyes and leans away. "Can you get that for me Mikey?" Mike, in response, grunts and pushes himself up to pick up the phone from it's cradle. He presses the receiving end to his ear before Eddie snatches it away with a quick laugh. 

"Kaspbrak residents-"

 _"YO EDDIE!"_ Loud and obnoxious? Must be Richie Tozier. He grimaced, pulling the phone away from his ear from the violent shout.

"...Rich'?"

"Yeah! Happy birthday baby!"

Despite himself, he smiles that Richie at least called to to tell him happy birthday. "Thanks Richie, but I'm turned in for the night."

"Already? C'mon Eddie, it's your birthday! Let me grab my bike and I'll be over there in five minutes." He sounded pleading. Just like Richie to force Eddie out to have a good time. Eddie glances over at Mike, who was staring up at the ceiling, and his lips twist into something uncomfortable.

Richie's loud rap music was flooding past the receiving end and must have been audible enough for Mike to hear. "No, Rich _it's late._ Call me in the morning man, I'm really tired."

Richie huffs into his receiving end and Eddie's officially braced himself for his incoming hissy fit. "Oh. So that's how it's gonna be Kaspbrak? No foreplay or the actual _play_ yesterday and ditched me to go hang with a chick? Real sweet babe. And then you don't wanna hang with me today? Eddie, what's up?"

"Richie, you know it's not like that. C'mon, I'll hang with you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? But it won't be your birthday tomorrow, Eddie." He sounded genuinely upset not being able to see Eddie. He cranes his neck to read the clock and in bright, block letters, it reads _12:03._

"It's not my birthday now, if you weren't too busy to notice." He jabs lightly. He didn't want Richie to feel like Eddie didn't want to be around him, because he did. He loved being with Richie. He just worried about Richie and Mike being in the same room _with_ him. 

There's a second pause on Richie's end and Eddie thinks this is the longest Richie's ever gone without talking. 

"Hey, Eddie?"

"What?" 

"Eddie."

"What?"

"Eddie."

" _What?"_

Eddie's wits are at its end and his brows are knitted together. his lips despite his annoyance, melted into a smile.

" _Just let me smell it."_

Eddie bursts into a barking laughing fit and he could almost _hear_ Richie's pleased expression.

"Richie, _you are ill._ " He says once his laughter fizzles out. 

_"Please, baby. Please, baby. Please, baby. Baby, baby, please!"_

_"Goodnight, Richard."_ Eddie says sharply, ready to hang up on his skinny, goofy ass. Richie on the other hand is scrambling to say a few more words before being hung up on.

"Wait! What, is it because Mike's there?" And _of course,_ just like that bastard to read into Eddie so accurately. But instead of actually responding, Eddie leans his entire upper body to slam the phone back into its cradle. 

"...who was that?" Mike begins. _Here we go again_ Eddie thinks like human nature. "It was Richie." There's a pregnant pause before Mike opens his mouth once again. " _What did he want?"_ He seethed some sort of resentment. The kind where you know somebody's eating your food, but you're too nice to actually call them out for it but they don't know you know; _That_ kind of resentment.

With ease, he explained. "He wanted to come over to tell me happy birthday but I'm fucking exahsted. So I told him it's too late."

Eddie's eyes may have been closed and away from Mike but he could feel him looking at him. It was a burning gaze that made Eddie squirm on his side of the bed. "Why didn't you tell him you were with me?"

 _"What do you see in him?"_ Mike says, a cold, icy whisper. His words felt like a cold breeze on an icy winter's day. It's already below freezing but somehow the gust of wind is even _colder_ than the actual weather. It sends a tendril of rage to sprout from Eddie. Mike may not see what Eddie sees in Richie but he had no right to ask so.. so bitterly. It might of be honest curiosity but the question makes him white hot with anger.

"I see a lot in him, Mike."

Mike doesn't push for more. Doesn't push for the detailed rant Eddie had prepared if he did. How even if Richie was an obnoxious, immature, goofy ass, beanpole, he was Eddie's. Eddie didn't like being questioned about _what_ he saw in who he saw. That was for him to know and for him to know only. 

"Night, Mike." And he gets up to blow his candles out.

Undeniably so, as they laid in bed, the question was still hung dangerously high in the air about what Eddie saw in the men he saw.


	3. Little red Corvette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie and Richie do the wild thing and talk until they fall asleep. Stanley Uris finally makes an appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry about how long it's been since I updated this fic. School's been a bitch 🤷🏽♀️ but I'm rewarding y'all with a 6k chapter 💗 ALSO I hate Greer's character in the movie, so if you feel like Stan is kinda ashole-ey In this then you'll understand. But as much as I dislike the series, I will give them their props for giving him more personality that just a pompous hypocrite asshole. 
> 
> I do appreciate n love the comments and kudos you guys give me !!! Thanks !!

As promised, Richie and Eddie hang out the next day. It was perfect timing since Mike was working at the library which meant Richie and Mike wouldn't be able to cross paths yet. At first it was hanging out and talking until talking turned it to 'so do it' and 'make me's. So after ten minutes of circling each other in a heavy, deafening sexual tension, they become captive with one another on his twin sized mattress, desire hot and sticky between them.

Eddie's room was pitch dark with nothing but his sacred candles illuminating their figures. It set a sensual mood along with the gentle touches that they both craved like dogs in heat. Eddie laid across his bed with Richie's slender, tall body hunched over Eddie for all access. His thin, feather like fingers grazed gently over his arms and his face; like the blind reading Braille. He ventures down and lifts Eddie's yellow sweater up, just a little, and a sliver of delicious caramel skin is visible.

Eddie's heart beats like a snare drum against his chest as Richie pushes his shirt up more. Eddie was still insecure about his stomach's much more ample and fleshy new definition. It was only Mike whose seen him naked since his little weight gain and feared Richie's reaction would be worse. 

Immediately being thrown out his thoughts, slim fingers pinched his exposed doughy sides and Eddie swallows. _"Geez, Eddie. You really filled out, huh." What?_ And to make it worse, he _slaps_ his belly gently. As if making fun of his fat. Eddie sits up quickly, tugging his shirt down while throwing a much deserved glare at Richie. It wasn't much of a surprise that Richie would be hurtful pointing out his insecurities so crudely. He had a big mouth and couldn't keep _diddly doo_ to himself. So as Eddie glares at him he didn't even realize the small tears formed in his eyes.

Richie's face morphs from a deer caught in headlights into absolute fear. "No no no, wait, that's- I didn't mean it like that."

Eddie scoffs, voice pinched and bitter. "Yeah? Then what did you mean?"

Richie surges over to wipe his tears away while Eddie's frowning deeply with eyes averted up at the ceiling. "Eddie, you know I wouldn't hurt your feelings intentionally.." he mummers, swiping the pad of his thumb across his cheek affectionately. "Remember? Baby, you're so  _ fine.  _ Like, Jesus Eddie; you really think I'd care if you had a lil' belly?  _ Please _ ." 

Eddie smiles warmly and looked down. "I'm serious! Hey, it's actually kinda cute. And plus, you got a brand new  _ spankin'  _ ass I can do this to now." Before even asking, Richie's hand snakes down and squeezes his ass. Hand sandwiched between Eddie rear and his mattress, thin fingers gripping grade A meat, he gets an effective rise out of Eddie. "-Hey! Quit that!" He instructs but he's giggling. Richie pushes him against the mattress and chuckles. "Just know I don't think it's disgusting or whatever. I like it Eddie; you're the finest man in all of New York baby; anything you got is attractive. Even those stinking dogs of yours." He smirks, tugging on his ankles. 

"My feet don't even stink and you know that." All Eddie replies and Richie's expression softens into adoration. 

"Yeah, I know." And he's back hunched over Eddie. He finally throws his shirt off and Richie has to keep his tongue from rolling out a dog. "Good God! Almighty! Thank ya Jesus!" Richie praises, impersonating a southern church go-er. Eddie does chuckle as blush burns his cheeks. 

"Richie, you don't even  _ go  _ to church."

"Yeah, so what? Baby, I don't have to go to church to know that you're thank-ya-jesus fine!" He whistles and Eddie's laughing again, belly shaking. Richie's face is directly in front of Eddie's chest as he presses his warm lips against his pebbled nipple, tongue lapping over before kissing it passionately. Eddie's laughter fizzles into a quiet moan, head up toward the ceiling. Richie removes his lips to the other nipple, doing the same thing. Lips pressed against his nipple and suck _ ing.  _ Eddie moans again before Richie let's go with a  _ 'pop!'  _ and Eddie felt his body explode like jiffy pop in a microwave.

Eddie's silence turns into giggles as he feels Richie's delicate, wet tongue slide down in a straight line from his nipples toward his stomach. His laughs become much more loud and genuine considering how ticklish his tummy was. His tongue falls into the deep yet shallow hole of his belly button and swirls around. Eddie laughs at the feeling, but arousal floods into his belly as his cock twitches in the same arousal. His tongue circles around the edge before burying into the tight squeeze of the center of his navel.

He removes his tongue from his navel with a string of saliva threaded and moves to tug off his jeans. As he tugs them off his hips, he gets a look at his new exposed thighs. They weren't much bigger than they were before Eddie's little weight gain but there was a new doughy definition regardless. He kisses the inside of his thighs and they smelled of Sweet Pea which Richie was intrigued by.

"Eds', you smell so good.." Richie hum, pecking at the tender flesh.  _ Just let me smell it. _ Eddie huffs out a laugh at the similarities of those words.

"Don't call me Eds." Eddie grumbles before closing his eyes. He feels Richie stop kissing on his thighs so he reopens them to find Richie mere inches away from his face.

"Why? Do  _ they  _ get to call you Eds?"

"Yeah. But it's not  _ our _ thing."

Rich's lips twitch into something confusing as he scans Eddie from his lips, cheeks, and eyes. "What's our thing then?"

Eddie thinks. "I like when you call me doll. It's cute. I just, I don't know.  _ Eds'  _ isn't our thing, y'know?" 

It's Richie's turn to think again, in silence surprisingly, before lowly musing, "Is this your way of trying to call me special, Eddie?" 

A wickedly playful grin spreads across Eddie's face. "Maybe."

"Oh? Hard to get, huh?" 

Richie kisses him hard on the mouth which Eddie reciprocates, groaning. He lets go in a huff and slides down and sucks on his side getting Eddie to let out an offended sounding gasp. " _ Fuck, Richie."  _ And it does wonders to Richie's half hard cock. There's a brand new hickey on his side like a branded cow. He pressed a gentle peck on his softer belly below his navel, like a taste, before sucking on his soft skin. Eddie mewls, arching his back as another dark red hickey appears on his virgin flesh. 

"If you don't wanna say I'm special, then those other guys you fuck with will find out how special I am to you when they see these fucking marks on you, doll. Right, Eddie? I'm special?"

"You're  _ everything  _ Richie! Oh my God," he sounds like he's losing his breath as Richie leers down to suck a dark red mark on his inner thighs. Love bites all across his torso to the inside of Eddie's thighs were proven to be shown as Richie making Eddie's  _ his.  _ That still wouldn't be true because he enjoyed  _ all  _ his relationships but Eddie enjoyed his efforts. 

Eddie was melted against the sheets as Richie peppered kisses into the crook of his neck. "my little jello baby." Richie calls him. They were both stripped into nothing but their whities but Richie was still in his beloved red Air Jordan 1 hightops. Just like how Eddie only made love with his candles lit, Richie only made love his Jordan's on. They were truly an odd pair.

  


_________

  
  


They were both blissed out from their shared orgasm and lied on their stomachs pressed into Eddie's mattress. Eddie had his face buried into his arms as Richie looked at him. 

"Hey Eddie, you up?" Richie mutters. His voice is raw and deep like the bark of a tree. 

"Yeah."

"You sure you're up?"

Teeth gritting, Eddie replies, "Yes, Richie, I'm sure I'm up."

Richie takes a moment before answering. "Can I ask you a question?" 

Eddie would poke fun of his questions but never denied him. He could never bring himself to do that. "Yeah, sure. And it better not be to sniff my underwear you sicko." There was no bite to his words, just a gentle jab they constantly would share with each other.

Richie snorts gently. "It's okay?"

"Yeah, it's okay."

There's a pause before he works up a nerve to ask said question. "Am i as good as Mike or Stanley?" 

Eddie is a little speechless before he answers back. "That's the  _ dumbest  _ thing you've ever asked me." While that could be topped with his  _ shouldn't coconuts be considered animals  _ question, it was still a stupid question at it's very core. Richie may not have understood it but they were all good at making love in their own ways. Richie was a great lover with his quirkiness and ability to manhandle Eddie. Mike was great because he was gentle yet firm. And Stan was great because he could make Eddie quiver and whine with just a look. They were great lovers, there really was no competition in something so vague.

"Y'know Eddie, I've been thinking."

Eddie's eyes close. "Don't think." 

"Eddie, I think I love you." The words were like a freight train driving into a brick wall; heavy, destructive, and confusing (because who the  _ hell  _ would put a brick wall on a train track?) While it is expected, it sneaks up on you in surprise and scares you shitless. His eyes snap open in horror and buries his chin deeper into his crossed arms. 

"You really think so? What makes you think that?"

"Well, geez Eddie, where do I start?" He rubs his chin in thought. "Well, I love that cute button nose you got. And those big ole peepers you call eyes. I love how fucking cute you look wearing my clothes and how you can match my wit. I love your new little belly, and that  _ ass.  _ whew! I love how small you are compared to me. God, Eddie. You just don't know." 

Eddie's mouth was  _ dry.  _ Like he tried to eat a bucket of sand; or eat Popeyes biscuits without water. He had no idea how to respond. If he didn't know any better, he would agree that maybe Richie  _ was  _ in love with him. But he's juggling three relationships and couldn't put one in front of the other two. 

"Richie, you're not in love with me. You're  _ in like  _ with me." He faces Richie and he doesn't look devastated or anything of that nature; just restrained. His brows were furrowed and his lips puckered into something of a frown, signaling he wasn't very pleased with Eddie's answer.

"Look, Richie. I know you and you know me. You don't  _ love  _ me. If anything, you're in love with my love making."

"You've got a big ego for such a little man." Richie scoffs back. "What makes you think I only wanna be with you for sex?"

Eddie squints at him, testily. " _ Love making. _ And because that's all you ever come over for. Name a time you've been invited here and haven't begged for it like a dog?" 

Richie's silent and the look on his face shows that he's obviously thinking about it. He comes up with nothing; not a date, year, or anything in between. Zilch. "Well, it's not like you haven't begged for it either!"

"Well I never said I was in love with you, either."

The words felt heavier than Eddie realizes and the air suddenly becomes thick. Richie stares at him blankly and Eddie has to close his eyes and shake his head. This was beginning to become too much. Eddie looks away and pillows his head in his crossed arms again, while a tight, tingling feeling burns in his chest.

Eddie mumbles, "Hey, don't mess this up. I actually like having you around." 

" _ Don't mess it up?"  _ He feels Richie sit up and shift under his mattress. "Squash it then, alright Kaspbrak?"

With a mental eyeroll, he complies. "It's squashed." Another deafening silence and Richie's shuffling on his side of the bed again. 

He taps his boney elbow against the back Eddie's head and Eddie frowns in response although his eyes remain closed. "Eddie?"

Soft yet irritably, he replies, "what?" 

Another tap on the head from Richie's boney elbow and Eddie is close to choking him out Homer Simpson style. 

_ "What?"  _

He could almost hear Richie's pleased expression. "Did I ever tell you about the time I was a  _ superhero _ ?" Eddie decides he could humor Richie for a while. "No, I must of missed that one." He mutters, close to drifting asleep himself. Richie hums. "You missed that one?" And Eddie hums in agreement. That electric feeling Eddie got when Richie would try and indulge him was buzzing no matter his being drunk on the urge to sleep. "Well, this must be your lucky Night Eddie Kaspbrak. Because I'm gonna tell you about it anyway, alright?" Eddie in response smiles into his arms. "Yeah, okay."

Eddie on his own side of the bed, feels scuffling with their shared blankets. "Hey! No peeking! I know you're a peeker." Chuckling, Eddie replies, "okay! I won't peek!" More and more scuffling to fill in for Richie's answers before it eventually stops. He taps on Eddie's exposed shoulder with his finger and with bliss, he says, "okay, turn around."

Eddie turns around and doesn't even know what to do besides laugh. Richie's head was masked in his white draws with the leg holes as eyeholes. He really could be insufferable sometimes. Eddie barks out a laugh and Richie grins under his underwear. 

"They called me pantie man. You smell something?" He sniffs jokingly and Eddie laughs even harder. There's no way Eddie made love twenty minutes ago with a man who calls himself  _ pantie man  _ while wearing another man's draws over his head. That aids him to laugh so hard his stomach clenches up and he has to let his entire face fall into the mattress before having to look back at the so-called P _ antie Man.  _

Richie looks at Eddie affectionately yet expectedly. "Now does Mike and Stan make you laugh like this?" Eddie shakes his head with a smile still evidently on his face. "No, they don't. But then again, they don't put my underwear on my head like some chucklefuck either." He chuckles and Richie mock gasps. " _ Chucklefuck _ ? Is that what they're calling all the funny attractive men in the 80s now?" Eddie belts out another amused laugh as Richie turns onto his back. 

"But hey. If I can make a babe laugh, I'm over like a fat rat." Eddie raises a brow at his statement but Richie just keeps talking. "But when they stop laughing," he makes a wispy sound, something that sounded like  _ whoosh.  _ "I book." Eddie stares at him amusingly, lips pressed together. "Is that so? Well I guess we'll see." He muses. Richie was a funny guy (as much as he hated to admit it sometimes) so he couldn't see Richie ever  _ booking  _ it on him.

"Hey Eddie." Richie says as he removes Eddie's underwear from his head. He flings it over Eddie's face who scrunches his nose in disgust. "What?" He faces Richie who has his chin planted on his knuckles like  _ The Thinker _ statue. Though he wasn't thinking; just enjoying his view of Eddie from his own side of his bed observantly. 

"You should trust me with your secrets." He says it like it wasn't a big deal. Because Richie was always one to say things that were meant to be important on a sporadic whim, just like now. It was like words had no emotional depth to him. Everything was meant to be told casually or joked about. There was nothing serious about Richie Tozier as far as Eddie knew, so he's not very persuasive for Eddie to accept his request. His secrets were his to keep. Something kept with him to the  _ grave.  _ He doesn't tell secrets to men who put panties on their head or tell him how much weight he's packing. But maybe,  _ maybe  _ one day, he could become comfortable enough to tell Richie about his secrets.

"Why should I trust you?" Eddie replies, equally suspicious and equally poised. Richie bows his head, ever so slowly, for his bugging eyes to look up at Eddie from behind those thick layers of prescription glasses. His eyes were almonds, but his dark chocolate-y pupils glittered with mischief that Eddie loved to blindly follow. "Well if you can't trust Richie Tozier,  _ who can you trust?"  _ His lips are quirked in a small, kitty cat smile and Eddie's filled to the brim with sarcastic punchlines to answer. 

As much as he wanted to, he goes against his reflex wit and answers back, "trust you with what?" It was an honest question he knew would be answered with an honest answer. If there's one thing about Richie, he was a butcher with a person's feelings and habits. He'd slice them with questions, which were his figurative butcher's knife. He'll ask a vague question, Eddie'll slim it down to where it makes sense and Richie responds with a more detailed and personal question. But Eddie was an open book; if Richie had the question, Eddie would  _ usually  _ have the answer. While he did keep secrets like any other human being, he was a truthful man. He had no reason to lie.

"Y'know, your secret shit. Stuff about Mike and Stanley." He replies, head still propped up against his knuckles. Eddie's head was still tucked in his arms but his head was turned enough to look back at Richie. Eddie frowns in displeasure about Richie's constant worry about Mike and Stan. That had to be the fourth time he's brought either of them up, and they haven't even met. 

Eddie sighs and deflates. "Not this again." 

It was Richie whose casual voice sounded more pinched and bothered than usual. "Eddie man, I just don't know what you see in those two Joe Neckbones." Eddie can't help but snort at his attitude and mockery.

"Have you ever taken a look at Mike's head? The guy has a fuckin'  _ 16-piece chicken McNugget head." _

Eddie has to roll his eyes to keep from laughing at his joke. And worse, He continues talking. "And Stan? Look at his hair! It's all over the fucking place! Sheds worse than a mutt." Eddie just smiles and shakes his head at Richie's antics. They may not have seen each other in person, but Eddie had Polaroid's of them peppered around his studio. It wasn't like they all haven't seen what the other looked like and made snide comments about each other; because that's all Richie's done since discovering Eddie's two other suitors Polaroid's. 

"Go to bed, Richie. c'mon I'm tired." And of course Richie's response would be, "from all that dick riding you did earlier?" Eddie rolls his eyes and gets up to blow all his candles, but three, out. He forgets he was ass naked and could feel Richie's gaze burn into his ass. He ignores the feeling until he slips back under the blanket. 

Before Eddie can even cocoon himself back under his blanket, thin arms wrap around his waist and pulls him into Richie's chest and onto his lap. He squirms just a little but gives up and pouts. "What, Richie?" He didn't mean for it to sound so vicious. 

"What? Why do you sound so upset?"

"Because I'm tired, now let me go, Rich." 

Delicate fingers dance gently on his sides at a teasing pace. "Now I can't have you going to bed upset, doll." Before Eddie could protest, spindly fingers drill into Eddie's sides and he squeals and laughs at the funny, tickly feeling. His phone rings but he's trapped and laughing in Richie's arms. His fingers scattered all over his body to find a new ticklish area and found it was his neck.  _ Another  _ phone call buzzes but Richie's too busy blowing raspberries in Eddie's neck and Eddie's too busy scrunching his neck up and laughing. 

Eddie ended up lying diagonally draped over Richie's warm chest where new sprouts of black chest hair began growing. If Richie were to bulk up a few, he would have ladies all over him because he'd look almost like Paul Bunyan; all tall, hairy and brawny. That version of Richie intrigued Eddie more than it should have. Richie was a real funny guy, smart (he finds out after he told him about his valedictorian speech.), Charming, and oddly attractive, so Eddie shouldn't have to think about changing him. 

But any woman Eddie knows would rather spend a night with someone who looks like Mike rather than Richie. While Richie did have an unreasonably lanky and skinny body, he knew ways to please Eddie that  _ he  _ didn't even know about. And he personally liked Richie's body the way it was. It was tall, gentle, and thin. And it was opposite of Eddie's, who now had a new definition to his small body. They were like complete opposites.

"Comfortable up there, pumpkin?" Richie mumbled looking up at him. Eddie nods before his lips twist in concern and his eyebrows furrow. "Am.. am I crushing you?" Richie lets out a low breath and shakes his head. "No, Eddie, you're not crushing me. How fragile do you think I am? And plus, you're actually pretty comfortable. Like those weighted blankets."

"It's not that I think you're fragile, it's that I think I'm a little heavy to be lying on top of you." Eddie mumbles. Then, he feels strong hands land on his hips and the pad of Richie's thumb circling into his soft flesh. "You're not even heavy, Eddie. You're like, 5'6. You're pretty small compared to me." He wasn't wrong. Richie was about 5'9 but he told Eddie he was a late bloomer so he was still having his growth spurt. The man was 25 and he was  _ still  _ having a growth spurt. 

"Yeah, okay, whatever." Eddie mumbles into his chest and Richie laughs. He wraps his arms around Eddie's arms and waist and nudges his head to get him to look up. Eddie does and is met with soft, plush lips against his own. He tasted like… skin. He obviously hadn't eaten since he arrived, and that was 3 hours ago. So his default taste was his lips. They kiss for 5 more seconds before Eddie drops his head back into Richie's chest. 

"Go to sleep, Richie. But blow out those candles before you do." And Richie does as instructed. He leans up holding Eddie, who was clinging to him like a Koala Bear, while blowing out the candles. They settle back in bed with Richie's arms around Eddie and drift asleep, forgetting all about the three calls he missed from Mike. 

  


________

  


_ MIKE HANLON _

  


_ I got sick and tired of feeling like a spoke in a wheel, which is what I was. To Eddie, we were all interchangeable, simply parts of a whole. And it didn't matter who, just as long as it was a warm body. Eddie had no devotion, allegiance, or loyalty whatsoever. _

_ When he whispered… _

_ Mike, they don't matter, don't matter at all. You're the one I love.  _

_...that was no consolation at all. That "You can't tell the players from the scorecard" shit had to go! When we'd be making love, I found myself wondering who or what other men had been in this bed with him besides the two I knew about, doing things to what I felt was mine. I had did enough sharing to last me for the rest of my life. Eddie hurt me to the core, but he's gotta have it. _

  
  


________

  
  
  


STANLEY URIS

  


_ I was the best thing that ever happened to Eddie Kaspbrak. _

_ Ask him, he'll tell you that himself. Why, he worshipped me. Oh, we were something else together. When we walked down the street, heads turned. We were one stunning couple. He was a little rough when I first started going out with him. Typical Brooklyn tackhead. But I refined him. I encouraged him to read more, took him to the best of places, exposed him to new ideas. Why, you should have seen the way he dressed. It was I who made him a better person. I molded him. Stanley Uris was the sculptor, and Eddie Kaspbrak was but a mere lump of clay. Poor Eddie. He got led astray by common street trash. All of my hard work undone. If he'd have only listened to me and moved out of Brooklyn, why, we'd be together this very day. _

Stanley Uris, in layman's terms, was expensive. He was a tasteful man with an impeccable wardrobe, lavishing culinary insights, and owner of a red, polished convertible mustang. Eddie blamed him for the majority of his weight gain. While Stanley did like to critique his appearance, he always begged Eddie to try some new and expensive food from Manhattan or the East village. He was even generous enough to buy Eddie clothes from stores he thought were tasteful enough for him to wear (he personally didn't like the clothes Eddie would wear with Richie and Mike but usually never said anything.). If he didn't know better, he'd say Stanley is more his sugar daddy than he was a lover. 

They were both in Eddie's studio, Eddie was working on lesson plans for the kids in his third grade class before glancing up at Stanly, who was reading a Novel he knew was written by Herman Melville (who Stanley has told Eddie to be his favorite author.). He had his 25 pound weight lying near his feet, ready to trade his book up for his weight. Eddie watched him until he did, muscles becoming much more prominent under the stress of the weight. He was shirtless with the only articles of clothes left on him were his white Calvin Klein's, held up but a black belt, and black penny Loafers. 

Eddie huffs out a laugh and lowers the papers in his hands. "Y'know, Stan, I've never seen a man who likes to look at himself more than you do." In response, Stanley let's out a grunt. "Don't you ever get tired?"

Stan's eyes were still trained on his muscled arm, lips quirked up in a small smile. "Never happening, Eds'." In a joking manner, Eddie says, "I bet if you could marry yourself, you would." Stanley must not of thought so highly of the joke because his eyes narrow at Eddie as he frowns. 

"Is there a crime against a man taking good care of himself?" 

It's Eddie's turn to scoff and roll his eyes, irritably. Stanley sometimes reminded Eddie too much of himself to the point where it was like arguing with his own conscience. They're back in a heavy silence before Stan softens his hardened expression. "Darling, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get snippy." Eddie huffs out something that sounds similarly to agreement. "But, are you gonna join me?" Eddie looks at Stanley, who adorably has his bifocals perched to the very tip of his nose. If he didn't know better, he'd say Stanley would be the librarian; not Mike. Who the hell else would wear bifocals to lift weights  _ and  _ read? 

"Not right now, Stan, I'm working." Eddie mumbles, going through his stacks of paperwork. Stanley was always poised and patient. It's just sometimes, he didn't know how to stop talking. 

"You know, the minute you get  _ fat  _ i'm leaving you." Stan warns. He told that to Eddie  _ before  _ he got a little chubby and hasn't done a thing yet. "Oh really?" 

"Yeah, really. I don't mind the little weight you seem to be packing right now, but anymore and we're over." He replies, eyes glued to a page in his lime green covered book. Stan was a bit of a pompous blowhard but that made the sex even better. Like the tartness of key lime pie aids the overall flavor. Stan was a bit of a tart.

Eddie can't even find it in him to reply to something so insensitive, so he throws Stanley a jaded stare. He stared back,  _ finally  _ began putting down his weight. 

"Y'know, if you weren't even fine, I wouldn't bother with you."

The words made Eddie's narrow his big eyes at Stan. "Don't hurt yourself,  _ Stanley. _ " And almost out of conviction, Stan sets his weight on his foot and lets out a strangled,  _ painful  _ shriek. 

  


_______

  
  


After just a bit more indulgent arguing, Stan apologized and begged Eddie to go to a fancy restaurant here in Brooklyn. Stan was never a fan of Brooklyn but they both didn't feel like driving out all the way to Staten island or Central Park. It was a two story building with beautiful chandeliers and candles lit at each rounded, clothed table. Eddie was dressed in a lagoon blue silk blazer over a tight fit black under shirt, with a matching pair of loose trousers which were the same color as his blazer. Stanley was dressed in his white Calvin Klein's, black penny Loafers and black turtleneck he threw back on before they left. 

The restaurant was filled with men and women who looked like they belonged in East Hampton. Eddie doesn't believe he fits the image of prestige and minted as the people in East Hampton, but Stanley was persistent. They settle at one of the rounded tables more enclosed from everyone else. Stanley smiles at Eddie and Eddie mirrors him exactly. He was grateful that Stan actually enjoyed indulging him in the finer things in life, but almost felt bordered on how different he felt around such stiff capitalists. Him and Richie would spend hours making fun of people like that.

But he's with Stanley now, and he's one of the fat cats ordering something that sounded blatantly french. They share Chardonnay and Stan orders caviar, eggs, and lobster, while Eddie settles on a salad. The Chardonnay was as rich as the people inside the restaurant, with a sour and vile taste. It was aged perfectly, so Eddie grabs his wine glass by the bottom and fancies himself another sip. 

"I take you like the wine?" Stanley asks from his side of the table. Eddie nearly jumps at the sudden outburst. He does, however, sputter out some of his fading gold Chardonnay.

"Oh- oh yeah, I like it. It tastes good." He watches Stan while taking another convincing sip. Stan nods before taking his fork and knife to pull apart his lobster and caviar to eat. He shoves the forkful of his meal in his mouth and moans in pleasure. Eddie was almost certain Stanley got off to bird watching and eating more than he did sex. 

It's unbelievable how much more Stan ate than him but put on such little weight. His metabolism was nearly sized up to Richie's but he wasn't nearly as scrawny. Stan had muscles, but nothing brawny and lumberjack-ish like Mike. He had skinny, toned arms with abs to match. Even strong calves and thighs. Eddie's been running track since highschool and somehow Stan, the one who'd eat out every chance he got, had the runner's body. It was unfair really. He peers at Stan dunking his lobster in the melted butter near his plant and has to laugh. He may be skinny but that meal was the ticket to an early, buttery grave. 

"Honey, I don't know why you got that salad. This lobster is delicious." Stan says while smacking his lips. Eddie rolled his eyes and stabbed a piece of lettuce, resentfully.

"Well aren't you the same one who said if I get fat you're leaving me?" Eddie raises one of his bushy eyebrows at Stan who's pressing his napkin to his lips.

He looked stuck between wanting to soften his expression and keeping his guard up. "Eddie, I didn't mean it."

"You did too. You meant it and it hurt my feelings, Stanley." Eddie had his arms crossed while his pink thin lips became pouty and frowning. Stan sighs and takes Eddie's hand, squeezing it. "Darling, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. You're not that fat."

Unamused, Eddie replies, "you're not making this better." 

"I'm sorry! I shouldn't comment on your weight. That's not my business."

Eddie finally softens and smiles just barely. "Thank you. But that doesn't excuse the fact you made me feel like shit." Then he frowns again. His newly formed wrinkles started to pull. "I jog three times a week and I eat junk like you and Richie  _ just once _ , and I'm the one to gain weight and get criticized for it." He leans back onto the very back of his seat. "I don't even eat stuff like.. like that. I did just  _ once.  _ And now I'm fat." His eyes droop like a bloodhound and his lips are quivering pitifully. 

Stanley, on his own side of the table, had his face in a twist of emotion. Like it nearly disgusted him that he felt  _ bad  _ that he made Eddie feel so bad. He sighs and leans forward for their hands to connect. "Well.. what I said wasn't fair. At all. If I can eat like this and tell you how to look isn't fair. Even if I like the perfect male specimen already so,"

In an amused mocking voice, Eddie goes, "you wish." 

"I don't have to if I am. But anyway, You're right. But I do like taking you places. And restaurants. And if your weight  _ is  _ bothering you, then I can jog with you." 

Stan was an asshole a good 45% of the time, at least he was trying. What Eddie did get from that poor excuse of an apology, was Stan  _ enjoyed  _ spending time with him. He smiles genuinely at that and brings Stan's hand to his mouth to press a kiss against it. 

"What was that for?"

Eddie smiles softly. "Because you like spending time with me, you big softie." 

Stan looked like he wanted to be angry but ultimately melted and softened, smiling. He squeezes their entwined hands and nods. "Yeah, I guess I do. I don't need you mad at me. That'll spoil your appetite, darling." He pulls his hand back to grab his fork reflexively. 

"I'll order your favorite cheesecake, Eddie."

Eddie smiles up at him slyly. "Is this your way of apologizing?" 

Stanley's own lips quirk up into something mischievous and shrugs. "Call it what you will." 

Eddie laughed, bemused, and smiled fondly at Stan. "I think this is an apology and I  _ will  _ be calling it that." He can see Stan's mirith masked behind his jaded expression. He shakes his head affectionately and begins eating again. 

Eddie watches him intake his caviar and lobster just a moment too long and begins worrying. "Stan, you'll get gout eating like that. can you at least eat some vegetables?"

Eddie forgets that Stan was just as hard headed and brash as himself. "Hey. I like meat, then I'll eat meat."

"You couldn't order broccoli or carrots or something?"

Stanley does something tricky with the way he stares so testily at Eddie. "Why? Because you said so?" 

Eddie narrows his bulging eyes at Stan as if begging him to give him another reason to argue. But he doesn't and Stan stays unphased. So Eddie speaks, scoffing at him. " _ Fine.  _ Get gout like an old man or suffer from liver disease. See if I care." 

"Well, are those two hoodlums friends you hang out with Veggies?" Stan bites it out like it was a slur for being vegetarian. Or better yet, a bad thing that Eddie shared his time with two other men that weren't him who actually did (well, he'd have to force Richie to but he eventually would eat it) eat their vegetables.

"What are you talking about?" 

"You know what I'm talking about. Mike and that lunatic Richie. Y'know,  _ he doesn't even tie his shoes."  _ Stan is seething with resentment, crossed armed, huffing and puffing. But Stan was nowhere as brilliant with name calling as Richie was. Soon, Eddie realizes the little difference these grown men had from pouting children. Eddie's not so perfect either, but this jealousy that was prevalent in the three of them was ridiculous. 

"They're neither hoodlums or lunatics, so drop it Stan." Eddie instructs before looking down at his halfway eaten salad. Stan looks just as frustrated as Eddie and the entire moment is nerve wracking and angry. Like two male Rams dueling by butting into each other, head first.

"Eddie, will you forget about them? Really, you and I could really do a lot in this world." Stan seems to wait for Eddie to answer but he stays unresponsive. "I mean, for the love of God Eddie, I don't even see what you see in those two." There it goes again. His men's fragile egos weaken knowing they're not the only man in Eddie's life who can please him. A common side effect with polyamory dating that Eddie's not new or fond of. Eddie always warns them before jumping into anything, but they always  _ swear on their grandmother's Bible's  _ they're not the jealous type. And they always ask Eddie to  _ choose.  _ He's never been a good decision maker; all of his preteen years told what and how to do it by his overbearing mother. Luckily his father came back into his life to save him before having complete _ ly  _ purged his ability to make choices. But with dating it's much more difficult. Something neither his parents have helped him do. Or anyone else in the world for that matter. 

Simply, though, when a man feels threatened, they throw in the, "I don't know what you see in them" speech. Stan's not dating Richie or Mike so he shouldn't  _ have  _ to see what Eddie did. "I'm everything that you need." Stanley finishes. See, Eddie's never been poised and precise. He's always been angry, loud, and fast. He wasn't like Mike, who had the personality of a lazy river. He was burning to his core, and seeped out on the outside where he was loud, fast, and bright like a thousand year old star. He needed to be heard and heard just  _ once.  _ His father always joked with him in his teen years that he would make an amazing lawyer, rather than a doctor like his mother would buzz about. Stanley was the same way. But he was an observer. He observed before he talked and when he talked, it was hot, brash and sharp. Sharp as Richie's tongue with an even sharper mind. Stan was burning  _ hot  _ like Eddie and thought of it as instant compatibility.

"You are tripping. I don't  _ need  _ any man, Stanley Uris. Everything I need is at my studio. Food, water, shelter and playgirl." He takes a cool sip of Chardonnay and Stan's expression stiffens. He wasn't used to being corrected, seeming he grew up an intellect and intellects grow up to correct others. But Stanley seems to get his memo and stays dumbfounded into silence. 

The date gose one until they both decide it's time to leave. But on the way out after paying, Eddie realizes Stan never did order his favorite cheesecake like he said he would. 


	4. Scandalous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie and Stan fight, Frank and Dr. Denbrough make an appearance, and Eddie has three calls to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOOO I can't believe I haven't updated in like a MONTH! I'm so sorry guys, school and blacktober are really my two priorities right now so I had to update this in little bits. I'm so so so sorry again for taking forever to update this fic. Hey, but at least I did. 
> 
> Anyway, I appreciate and love all the comments and kudos I'm receiving! And, I love my readers and glad you're still sticking around :) ♥️

After living under Sonia's thumb for the past 15 years, the idea of therapy had been on the table for a while. He knew he needed therapy, for all the years of trivial family matters, and him suffering what he finds is a somewhat intense case of hypochondria he's had to bear for 24 years. The resentment he still notably has for his father re-entering his life, dead mother, and his life in general was in need (and suggested by his many physicians) of good old Therapy.

Eddie knew he needed therapy; just not the therapy he was expecting to visit. 

It happened the day after Stan came by to visit. Stan was still in his studio after he stayed the night. Mike had to work double at the library and Richie needed to go bike messaging or he'd get laid off for missing another day. So it was just Stan and Eddie. They started the day off with stretches and exercises which they both found comfort in.

"One two three four.. one two three four.." stood straight up before leaning down to touch their toes.

"Eddie, I got big news." Stanley beams smalily suddenly stopping with his hands on his hips. Eddie huffs and stands in the exact same stance Stan was in. 

"Like what?"

Stan just grins brightly, his dull dirt colored eyes now warm and bright. "You're looking at one of Manhattan's new trust funds manager!" And Eddie cheers, throwing his arms around Stan. "That's amazing Stan!" He admits before bouncing on his toes to press a generous kiss on his cheek. He did have faith Stan could make it big. He was a very reasonable man, assertive and straight forward. To be honest, it was no surprise to Eddie Stanley would eventually get promoted. 

He grins up at Stanley who gazes back at him at room temperature; cool yet warm. His arms squeeze Eddie by the small of his back, close to his chest like he's afraid he'll liquify and disappear if not held tight enough. They sway together lightly, Stanley leaning into to press kiss after kiss to Eddie's lips.

They're held together, chest to chest, as Eddie hums my baby just cares for me. "What will we do to celebrate?" Stan purrs, moving to bite gently on Eddie's earlobe. It sent a wave of arousal to flood his belly, warm and shivering. Eddie bit down harshly letting out a ragged breath. 

Stan has this look about him. He was always kept so clean and poised it made Eddie and wanted nothing more but to see him dishevelled and not the very carefully pieced man in front of him. He wanted to see Stan fall apart. He needed to see him a mess. 

If Eddie didn't know better, he'd say he was jealous. Sickly jealous how well put and adjusted Stanley seemed in life. That was the root of this odd fulfillment to dominate Stan. Because Eddie, on the other hand, wasn't so adjusted. He knows this; his tenant, his neighbors, lovers- they all knew he was as scrambled as morning breakfast. 

Stan was exploding with the same desire to be in control, and ambition, as Eddie. He thinks every man in the world has some dire desire to be in control. But there was something so marveling and distinguished about plain old Stanley Uris, typical Accountant-now-funds-manager, that made Eddie flare with desire. Stan was alcohol you just keep sipping until you eventually get alcohol posion-ing or some liver related disease.

"Stanley," Eddie breathed, voice heavy with lust. He plants his hand against Stan's chest, pushing him to his bed. He shoves him down, Stan caught in surprise, but watches intently as Eddie strips out his shirt. He isn't as reluctant as he was with Richie, because Stan was already very vocal about his body as it was; yet he was still here waiting to touch him.

"Stan, say you didn't mean what you said at the restaurant." Eddie pouts preciously, like a child asking for forgiveness. Stan just leans farther onto Eddie's sheets, letting out a quick little hum. Eddie's not sure why he did it, but he's sure it meant something.

"Okay. Yeah, you still look good, Ed's." Stan leans back up to grab onto Eddie's wrist, attempting to pull him onto the mattress. "Yeah, a little chunky, here and there, but. Good." Stanley admits and the confidence Eddie did possess is gone. 

Eddie tears his arm away from Stan. Like he's noted on various occasions, he clearly doesn't have much of a filter. Like Richie, except Stan was a sucker for using big fancy words as if it cancels out the evident sourness of his chosen insult.

"You're the absolute worst." Eddie bite out, already wiggling back into his loose faded Beatles shirt. 

Stan groans. "Darling, you've been like this all day. Sweet then you give me the cold shoulder. What's up?" He huffs softly. Soft yet viciously spoken in that Stan Uris way. 

"You. Y'know, you have a bit of a mean streak." Eddie fumes and Stan narrows his eyes at Eddie testily. "I have a mean streak? What about you just yesterday, at the restaurant, you were being rude to the waiter! For forgetting your so-called allergy to almonds." Stan was positive that Eddie had no such allergies as Eddie claimed. Not that Eddie did want to eat almonds anyhow. He's just not willing to take any chances about what his mother warned him about, what he could and couldn't eat. But then again, she was always lying to him about his illnesses so maybe he wasn't allergic to almonds. 

Maybe he was.

"I'm not mean. I'm the farthest thing from mean there is." Eddie scoffed. Stanley chuckled. "Of course you are. You're an absolute saint. Never done anything wrong your whole life." He hums. Something about Stan's sarcastic tone didn't sit right with Eddie's spirit. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

Stan shrugged. "Well, nothing Ed's. It meant nothing." He replied easily. Stan peels his collared turquoise sweater off, his trimmed physique on display for Eddie to marvel at. Stan, naturally, was a narcissistic. So any little drink of admiration was enough to feed Stan's ego for a week. Eddie let's his eyes rake his entire naked upper-half feeling hot. He got to have Stanley Uris, in bed, with him. 

"Darling, aren't you gonna stripe for me?" Stanley pips up pulling Eddie from his steamy day dreaming. He nods, reluctantly, and eventually throws his shirt back off before kicking off his sneakers, and then his denim jeans, tossing it to his floor. Whereas Stan neatly and slowly folded his long sleeve shirt up. It earns an eye roll from Eddie and Stan scoffs. 

"Have a little patience." Stan hums and Eddie couldn't help but roll his eyes for the second time. Have a little patience my ass. The mood was slowly dying like hot wax solidifying. He quickly gets back up, finding his box of matches to light his candles with. He settles back into his bed, awaiting Stan.

Stan eventually finishes folding his sweater and pulls Eddie into a deep, hot kiss. The kiss was edging desperation but Stan was a patient man. That's what made the love so hot. Stan was never in a rush. Eddie, Eddie was always in a rush with flashes of energy. Stan was like a tease really. He likes to take things like it's his last day on earth; slow and fully. 

In a swift motion, Eddie removes his lips from Stan's and latches onto his earlobe, biting gently. "Someone's in a mood today." Stan notices, a smile evident in his voice. Eddie grunts gently, moving to kiss his cheeks and temples. "Need you." He all but mutters. 

Stan hums and leans against the mattress deciding he was gonna bottom today. If he wasn't promoted, he would have asked him to top but it was a reward, Eddie guesses. And he didn't mind topping Stan. He enjoyed picking him apart. 

Eddie kisses at his neck, sweet and tender, biting just where Stan liked it. Gasps and little moans were heard beneath him, the puddle that was once Stanley Uris. His breath is steady and still like a pond untouched by its surroundings and it relaxes Eddie. Relaxed knowing that Stan enjoys this as much as Eddie did. 

"What do you want me to do Stan?" Eddie asks in a whisper. He sits on his lap and Stanley pushes himself up to rub Eddie's back while facing him. 

"Touch me, Dove." Stan replies, taking his free hand and kissing his knuckles. Like how Mike calls him his Peach and Richie called him Doll, Stan occasionally calls him his Dove. It was a bit corny, yeah, but it was sweet. Stan told him Doves were one of his favorite birds, right beside the Mute Swan. It was like Stan was saying Eddie was one of his favorite things and it sent a warm, tingly feeling to worm into his chest. 

"Okay baby." Eddie replies, giving him a big kiss, before pushing him back against the mattress. Stan cups his hand on Eddie's cheek and his eyes soften. "Eddie, I want you with me when my career takes off. We could have the world." He smiles. 

Eddie smiles back, sadly, and kisses him before pulling away. "Don't say another word." So Stan didn't.

_____

RICHIE TOZIER 

_"I ain't no psychiatrist, but I believe one of the reasons Eddie Kaspbrak was doing all that boning...What? Having sex. Boning. Anyway, like I was saying, I think he was doing this because he probably had a bad relationship with his father. He wasn't around. He was looking for him. Serious. Anyway, I told him I wasn't his pops. He was also greedy."_

_____

There's a man, skin tight and loosened thanks to old age, with salt and pepper hair sitting at a piano. His hair is combed back in an attempt to seem presentable while wearing wide, thin coke bottle glasses. He's in a pair of black suspenders and black high waters, the stereotypical outfit for a man his age. His fingers press each key creating a wishful melody that makes playing the piano look easy. 

FRANK KASPBRAK

_"I wrote that for him. Eddie's my only child. He's a normal son. He hates that word "normal." Sonia, my wife, and I tried to expose him to everything that we could afford. Piano lessons, ballet lessons, everything. And each summer we'd send him away to camp. But Eddie never was one who could keep his mind on any one thing for too long. Every month it would be something else. But I didn't mind. I still tried to encourage him. Sonia, my wife, is dead now. I tried to show Eddie as much love and affection as I could, and then some. You asked me earlier if I remember anything strange about him. He did crawl backwards till he walked."_

"Daddy." Eddie grinned, seeing his father. Frank smiles, smile lines stressed at the corners. He brings his son in for a side hug, glad to see him again. 

There were rare moments in their relationship that didn't feel like wet paper. 

Before retiring, Frank Kaspbrak was a sailor who wrote to his son every day for the past decade. 

During his past, Frank would play the piano at little bars and places he'd visit along the way. But the thing was, Eddie was with Sonia. Sonia was a manipulator. She was Eddie's mother. Frank has clear memories of his son as a youth, small and clumsy, but the sea was a great divider, tearing him apart from his only child.

He was still dedicated to being a father long distantly, making sure to write everyday and mail it by the end of the week to give to his son. Of course, little bits to ask Sonia how she was doing and whatnot, sending her checks to take care of bills and taxes, but mainly catching up on his son. 

But soon after, the letters would return back to Frank unopened. That did nothing but break his poor heart. Maybe his family had moved on. 

But ironically, hope risen when he found out Sonia was dead. He received a letter from Sonia's sister, Deborah, explaining her death and how Eddie would be guardian-less now that Sonia had passed. After another week being on the ocean, he returned to Maine to be with his son. 

The misconception Frank had of Sonia and Eddie forgetting about him was quickly proven wrong after triggering the panic attack his son had seeing him for the first time in a decade, claiming he was dead. 

Sonia told Eddie he was dead. 

After calming him down, their relationship began blossoming at tortoise speed. They didn't know how to talk to each other comfortably. Everything felt tense. They approached each other like exhibits at a zoo. At a distance. Never too close. 

But after years of living together, falling into a repetitive lifestyle of father and son trying to adjust, they eventually became closer. And they're both grateful that they finally are.

"Eddie kid, how's life in New York?" Frank asks, hunched over with his hands gripping into his knees for dear life. Frank's joints weren't like they used to be, now mechanical and stiff and in need of assistance. Eddie smiles breezily before sighing. "It's decent. Nothing too exciting. The kids are amazing though." Eddie immediately sought out to become a teacher the moment he entered college and that's what he'd become. A damn good one at that.

"That's good to hear son. Help your old man out and grab me a cola from the fridge." Frank instructed, pointing to the vintage pale yellow fridge. Eddie reluctantly went to get one but thought about the health problems Frank was now faced with thanks to old age. 

"Daddy, are you sure you should be drinking Cola right now? What about your blood pressure?" Eddie asked, Cola in hand. Frank dismisses him with a simple wave of his hand. "Nothing too serious, son." He explained, begrudgingly chipper. 

Eddie scolds his father, crossing his arms. It's enough having his mother dying on him, he can't let the same happen to his father. "How about water?" Eddie suggests. 

Frank had the mannerisms of a child and comically, Eddie's had the mentality of a man with 2 day jobs and bills to pay since the ripe age of eight. Frank sticks his nose up and grunts, dismissing the idea of drinking water instead of his Cola. 

"C'mon Eddie, I'll drink water after this one." Frank explains, patting his shoulder. He was glued to his seat at the piano as Eddie stood next to him, rolling his eyes. "You promise?" Frank smiled widely, his wrinkles prominent around his eyes and mouth. "I promise." Eddie sighs, handing him the cola bottle and Frank takes it, cracking it open and taking big gulps.

He sits it on his piano, the piano he named Gloria, and begins tapping away at his keys. He plays a melody that pulls Eddie head first into his childhood of Mr. Rodger tunes and melodies. It was amazing the way Frank stuck a few of the keys so harshly and a few with a feathery touch to create such a beautiful melody. 

With his deep, smokey voice, he sang out the beginning of the song, Eddie pulling up a chair to listen.

It's you I like,

It's not the things you wear,

It's not the way you do your hair

But it's you I like

The way you are right now,

The way down deep inside you

Not the things that hide you,

Not your toys

They're just beside you.

"How do you remember that?" Eddie asks. There are memories of his childhood, foggy and unclear and then there are those vibrant and crystalline. He remembers his father being around as when he was an adolescent, but didn't think Frank went through the trouble of remembering either. Sitting in front of the television, singing along to the symphonies Fred Rodger sang just for children like him. 

The earliest memories of his father before turning 15 when his mother passed are foggy and murky. little snippets of a voice that belong to Frank are fossilized in a distant part of his brain. Like the wheezy laugh he'd make when his younger self would say something amusing or do something funny. Then further along his memories, they stretch into nothing; just wonder.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, how do you remember that song? That was one of my favorite songs as a kid." Eddie replies. 

Frank just smiles, in a way that relaxes Eddie no matter how many times he wished it hasn't. His eyes soften behind his glasses and his fingers stop producing music. "I'm your old man, aren't I? I know it was." 

Slowly, reluctantly, Eddie replies, "But. But you were gone. At sea."

Eddie hates to admit it but he was bitter. Bitter about his father being gone for ten years of his life, and stuck with Sonia. She was alway a little nuts before Frank left but she flew off the handle the second year of his departure. Always watching him, cutting him down to feel weak and in need of assistance. Telling him he was sick. He had his childhood ruined by her and Frank just comes back as if he didn't notice it.

As if he didn't care. 

He was much more reluctant to listen to Frank during his teen years when he first came back. The same attitude someone with stepparents would have. You're not my dad, don't tell me what to do. It didn't feel like Frank was his father. Just some man who looked oddly like him in 40 years who was a permanent nanny. That's all parents are, aren't they? But still, Eddie didn't feel the bond a son has for their father the way any son would have for their father. 

He just comes into his life, no explanation, apology, nothing. Walks right back in like he went to the store for 10 minutes. He knows he shouldn't be upset about that, but he is. He doesn't know if he'll ever be able to not feel unsettled by that. 

He never received that apology to this day. 

"Well I was there when you were a youngster. I remember that song. It was a nice little song too." He wheezes out a chuckle, short lived and reminiscent. Eddie smiles, just barely, as something in his icy heart melts. 

"Yeah, it was."

Frank was very aware of his son's sexuality. He saw nothing wrong with it. A couple of his buddies from the war were gay and saw them nothing more than as his fellow man. He's seen a lot of things in his life and he's witnessed what hate can create. For Frank, hate was unnecessary. Simply being an ally and minding one's business was a good way to avoid any unnecessary problems.

"So, any men in the city?" Frank muses and Eddie's eyebrows hike all the way up his forehead. He knows Frank knows he's gay he just forgets. For months, he had to hide it from Sonia. So Frank being kind and understanding was a different kind of openness. 

"Daddy!" His face now a flustered pink. His dating life was still considered outlandish in the 80s after all. 

"I was just curious!" 

"Well.. there is!"

"Who?"

Eddie grows quite, having a mental debate with his conscience on whether he should tell him about his men. 

"Well, daddy, do you promise not to get upset?" 

Frank narrows his eyes testily. "Well, are you in trouble? Did you get someone in trouble? Eddie, do I have to go to New York-"

Eddie waves his hands. "No, nothing like that!" They're both quiet and Frank raises one of his eyebrows impressively, pressing him to go on. "Well, there are men. Definitely men." He swallows before he allows himself to continue. "Just uh, not one."

Frank's eyebrows are both raised and his eyes slightly wider. "Not one?"

Eddie shakes his head. "Not one."

Frank seems to be connecting some dots in his head because he's staring owlishly at Eddie, quiet. 

"Can… can I ask what their names are?" Frank begins quietly. Eddie smiles smalily that his father's not questioning his life choices. 

"Richie Tozier, Stanley Uris, and Mike Hanlon." He names and Frank is in awe, looking weirdly impressed with him. 

"Three, son? Isn't that a bit much?" He asks, sucking on his teeth. Eddie doesn't really know how to properly respond to that. So he shrugs. "I don't know yet." 

"Well, are you being fair to them?" He asks. Just like the old man to ask unfair questions like that. Eddie feels like he's being fair to them. But something else tells him he's not fair to any of them.

"I.. I hope. They're still seeing me, so that's a good sign." Eddie breathes. How was Frank Kaspbrak giving him relationship advice? Has he missed the last 14 fucking years of bullshit he called a marriage with his mother? 

"Are they just options? You're just gonna pick one, right?"

Eddie grunts. "I don't want to pick one." But deep, deep down, he knows he has to. He lets out a defeated sigh, shoulders sagging in loss. "But I think I have to. To be fair to them." He knows he has to choose one of them. They've all been begging for Eddie to choose, choose, choose. Maybe he does have to choose to be fair.

"Well, son, whatever you do decide, make sure you're happy in the end. And make sure they're happy too. You can't be happy if they're not." Frank advises before playing My baby just Cares For Me on Gloria. Eddie nods distractedly, Frank's words running circles through his mind.

As his father circles his attention back on his piano, singing, he considers his advice. More so, he wonders which one. Wondering about choosing just one.

_____

After visiting his father in Jersey City, not too far from his studio in Brooklyn, he spends his remaining time with Stan. Well, until they fight. 

"Eddie I'm tired of waiting on you. I got a life, y'know. I can't just sit around waiting on you while you sleep around with Richie and Mike of all people." He scoffs, obviously upset by Eddie's proclaimed "poor choice in dating" again. Eddie rolls his eyes, the tip of his ears burning hot in frustration. 

"Then don't wait up. I don't care, Stan." He scoffs. It was obviously a lie. He did like Stan. He liked Stan the same way he likes Richie and Mike. They were all counterparts to each other. Counterparts that he's come to adore.

Stan watched him for a minute. He has sharp, round, almond eyes. Watchful and careful. He crosses his arms, still studying Eddie under his gaze until he finally speaks. 

"Eddie, I think you're sick."

The words drew Eddie's blood cold and solid in his veins. A finger of nausea poked his belly with Stan's chosen words scrambling his brain. Sick. Eddie Kaspbrak was told he was sick for nearly fifthteen years by his deranged mother. He was not sick. His father told him so and he knows he's not.

But, what if he is? He couldn't possibly be sick. Right?

Stan carefully, but embracively, explains himself. "Now, I'm not saying you're a nympho, a slut, or a whore, but maybe a sex addict." 

Sex addict? Is that it? Eddie was fuming. He must not be hearing correctly because it sounded like Stanley Uris called him a sex addict. He furrowed his eyebrows and his eyes widened in anger. He crosses his arms securely across his chest as his cheeks blister from an angry blush.

"If I'm a sex addict, then why don't you leave me the hell alone?" Eddie snaps, and fast walks into his kitchen to escape being so close to Stan. It was like he was asking for a fight. 

"I'm just worried about you Eddie! That's all. I think you need professional help. A nice man doesn't go humping from bed to bed!" Stan exclaims and he doesn't realize he's hit a nerve. Red faced and angry, Eddie finally talks.

"Can you stop talking?"

Stan crosses his arms and frowns. "Fine. I'll shut up and never talk again." Eddie rolls his eyes. The dramatics of this man, he thinks.

"I've had it with you. If I'm a sex addict, then I'm going cold turkey." Cross armed, he walks back over to Stan with narrowed eyes and a tight frown across his face. "Stanley Uris, you're numero uno on my list." 

Wide eyed, Stanley replies, "me?"

"You." 

Raising his hands in defense, Stan's again trying to quickly defend himself. "Now honey, let's not do anything rash, like going cold turkey," he chuckles nervously as Eddie just stares at him impassively. "This is to be handled delicately. I'm the one you should keep, Eddie. Trust me." He places his hands gently on Eddie's hips, who quickly snatches them away.

"Don't touch me." Eddie bites. And just like that, Stan complies. He sighs, grabbing his coat, and without a word after, he's out the door.

______

DR. DENBROUGH

_Eddie Kaspbrak came to my office a confused and frightened young man. It seems as if one of his male friends told him he was sick. He started seeing me once a week. Gradually he opened up and that's when we started to make progress. My whole area of sex therapy is about trying to get to the feelings._

Eddie sits across from Dr. Denbrough's desk, who he now comes to call as just Bill. Bill was a nice man about his age. Patient, affirming, and kind. He told Eddie he used to suffer from a speech impediment (which he's come to realize was a stutter) after a family accident but took speech therapy in his late teens to recover. He still relapses and slips up to stutter from time to time during their sessions, but he was still a well spoken delightful man.

"Outright, you know what he had the nerve to call me? A sex addict. I don't think I am. Or at least, I hope not. Bill?" Eddie was wounded up with his legs pressed into his chest in his chair, looking at Bill for direction. Bill waits for him to finish before nodding calmly.

"Well, Eddie, excessive sexual activity have all the signals of being an addiction and can be treated in a fashion similar to other addictions, like alcoholism and gambling. Your friend, if you choose to call him that, confuses a healthy sex drive with sickness. You're not in the least bit sick."

Eddie beams at the new reality of a professional telling him he was not sick. It felt refreshing and for once, a reality. 

"I'm just horny?" He grins and Bill smiles softly at him, nodding. "A healthy amount of horny, yes. That's all a good sex drive is." And Eddie can't help but giggle. He wasn't sick. 

"I'm no addict." Eddie says with new seriousness. Ne needed to be able to hear himself say it.

Bill just stares at him before explaining more to Eddie. "Well, it's beyond sex, Eddie. It's something else. What we're all looking for in this brief life can be described by the word love. Do you hear me? If what you want is total male sexuality, be honest."

Bill leans back into his chair, smiling kindly at Eddie across his desk. He then taps his ears, saying, "The beautiful sex organ is between your ears, not between your legs."

And for once in his life, Eddie Kaspbrak felt normal.

_______

_I didn't hear from Eddie, so I called him, and he said he had regained his self-confidence. Well, I would have preferred one or two more sessions, but he felt it wasn't necessary. Nonetheless, in my opinion, Eddie Kaspbrak is a healthy human being._

_______

It's been a week since he's gone to sex therapy and three since he's talked to Stanley. Eddie knows he shouldn't even be talking to Stanley after what he called him, but he's been planning this dinner for far too long to let it go to waste. 

To hell if Stanley Uris thinks he can ruin his self-confidence and his thanksgiving dinner all together. He'll be damned to let anyone ruin something as sacred as Thanksgiving dinner for that matter. 

"Stanley Uris residence, whom am I gracing the presence of?" 

With an eye-roll, Eddie replies. "Stanley." 

A whispy sound, similar to a gasp, draws from the other line. "Eddie? Is that you?" 

"No, it's the milkman."

He hears a deep chuckle that belongs to Stan. "Still funny I see." 

"Don't nobody change for you, baby." Eddie replies and can almost hear the bright smile on Stanley's face. "Listen, Thanksgiving is this Thursday and I want you to show up. It'd mean a lot to me if you'd be there." 

Stanley hums as Eddie cuddles his cherry red rotary phone between his shoulder and ear. 

"Who else will be there?"

Eddie smacks his lips and sighs. "Look Stan, let me worry about guests. Just show up and look nice, that's all I'm asking for." Eddie begs patiently.

"Okay, fine Eddie, whatever you want." Eddie happily writes Stan's name down on a random piece of paper as the line goes silent. "Hey Eddie? Are we cool?" Stan asks timidly. 

Eddie wasn't sure himself; Stan hurt him pretty bad. "We'll see. If you behave yourself at this gathering you could maybe earn some brownie points and land back on my good side." Eddie says, twirling the curly cord of his phone. 

"Alright turtle dove. I'll see you Saturday."

Eddie smiles despite himself. "It's on Thursday, Stan. Thursday. Write it down for the sake of forgetting. But see you then." 

He just has two more calls to make.

________

"Esta es la casa de Richie Tozier, what's up?" 

Eddie warms up at how very different Richie was compared to his other men, in terms of answering the phone. "Richie, hey."

"EDDIE! Eddie spaghetti, Edsy-legsy, Eddie baby, ED'S! How are you on this fine day?" Richie greets (rather loudly). Eddie cringes away from the receiver and sighs. "You have the worst nicknames." 

"C'mon baby, you love it! Admit it. Admit you love them as much as you love me." Richie laughs. "Don't break my heart baby! If you don't even love my cutesy little nicknames for you, you don't even love me!" He cries dramatically and Eddie chuckles at his dramatics. 

"Sorry Richie but," 

"Eddie! Eddie, You wouldn't." Richie hisses. Eddie's smile grows in response.

"Richie, you know they're terrible!" 

"Now you're just being mean! C'mon doll, don't be like that." He pleas softly. His voice got Eddie unnecessarily hot with the use of doll and his voice going all deep and hot for no reason. 

"Okay. I like one." Eddie admits. He hears Richie cheer on the other line with a soft yes! Coming from his side. 

"I knew it. It must be Ed's. Right Ed's?" 

Eddie snorts. "Definitely not." 

"Uh, angel bottom?" 

"What? You've literally never called me that before until today." 

"But that ass could send me to heaven, Kaspbrak. It's banging, it's, it's,"

"Richard, don't you dare." 

He hears the tears in Richie's eyes to keep from laughing as he struggles out, "out of this world!" He bursts with laughter and it leaves Eddie red cheeked and flustered. 

"Anyway, that's not what I called you for." 

"Y'know, I think I'm gonna start calling you angel bottom. It's perfect. Symbolic if you will." 

"Fucking don't." Eddie hisses before composing himself to go on. 

"Anyway, again, I called because I'd really appreciate you coming over this Thursday for Thanksgiving." Richie hums, urging him to go on with details. "I just want you to come over and look nice. You don't have to bring anything-"

"Will there be schnapps?"

"There will be wine." Eddie says, gritting his teeth impatiently. He waits for Richie to finish whatever thought comes to mind. "Are you done?"

"Yes, go on." 

"Look, just come over. My place, five o'clock, leave whenever."

"Sounds good sugar lump, but I don't think I can make it. My schedule is pretty hefty." 

"Yes, Richie, I will be making pumpkin pie."

"On second thought, my schedule just cleared. I'll see you Thursday. Am I getting you to myself or..?"

"There will be some special appearances so I wouldn't get too handsy." Eddie suggests. He hears Richie groans and smack his lips in dissatisfaction.

"Alright cool, I'll be there for the wine and pumpkin pie. God, you make the best pies Eddie." 

"You flatter me Richie." Eddie responds flatly. He waits for Richie's final words.

"So, those two boneheads you're seeing gonna be there? I finally get to see those stiffs in the flesh? Is Stanley as boring as you make him sound?"

"Lay off them Richie, I care about them too. They're important to me." Eddie huffs and the taste in his mouth goes sour. 

"Whatever, Eddie. So they are showing up?" 

"Maybe. If they want. I'm not begging them to show up."

"But you asked?" 

"I asked you, didn't I?" 

Richie's silent for a minute and Eddie shouldn't feel bad, but he does. He didn't mean to get upset with him.

"Well, I guess that's fair. If it turns into a snooze fest I'll just take my food to go and scat; I'll be gone in a blink." 

Eddie rolls his eyes. "You sure got the Flash shaking in his boots, huh?" 

Richie chuckles deeply and it sends butterflies to sprout in Eddie's chest. "You know it sugar lips. But I'll see you on Thursday, right?" 

Eddie smiles, warm and fuzzy. "I sure hope so." 

"Hugs and kisses baby. Stay handsome till then." 

"Bye Richie, I wish I were there to give you a big juicy kiss." Eddie teases as a smile grows on his face. Richie wooooo!'s on the receiving end and it gets a giggle out of Eddie. 

"Now you're just teasing me."

"Goodbye Richard."

Richie laughs. "Alright, alright, Adiós mi amor." 

And the line goes silent.

_______

Mike was always practical compared to Stan and Richie. Richie will always be the least practical but sometimes Stan was just as irrational at him. The way he answered the phone, said goodbye, did anything reasonable was so Mike. He usually found it a little cute and very dependable, which was a good thing of course. 

"Hello?" 

"Hey Mike."

A soft exhale of breath is heard on the receiving end. "Eddie. Hey, how are you? It feels like forever." 

Eddie smiles sadly because it really did feel like eons have passed since he's been with Mike. "I'm good. Are you?" He hears Mike clear his throat and it's a gruff sound stuck in his throat. "I'm pretty good. But I'm glad to hear that you're well." 

Eddie nods. "I'm glad you're doing good too." 

There's a hefty pause between them before it's Eddie's turn to clear his throat. "Look, Mike, I'm having dinner at my place on Thursday for Thanksgiving. I would love it if you come." 

Mike is silent and Eddie wonders if Mike's thinking about going or how to break it to him how he'd rather be anywhere in the world but here. It's a fair assumption to make considering how long he's been silent. 

"My daddy wants me to come home for Thanksgiving break, Eddie." The words alone hurt him more than Eddie thought they would. Derry is all the way across the country and not having Mike around was painful. It was becoming an antagonizing sight to watch him go to a town that treated him like shit for years. And all the way across the fucking country. "Oh. Uh, yeah, that's fine. You should go Mike." 

"Let me finish." Eddie patiently, does as requested. "I want to spend Thanksgiving with you before I leave. Just you and me. Have a special night before I leave." 

Eddie's mouth is bone dry as he attempts to find saliva to wet his lips. Alone? "Oh, of-of course Mike. I just hope you make it." Eddie replies shakily. He can't promise anything he knows he can't keep. He can't promise Mike alone and he knows it. 

"I'll be there honey bee." Mike says on his end and the nickname consumes Eddie's heart and swells with heat. The low rise of Mike's voice was enough to get Eddie feverishly hot and dreamy. It was scandalous. 

"See you later, alligator." Eddie muses in the transmitter awaiting a goodbye back. Instead, he hears deep, masculine chuckles that makes Eddie's heart beat like crazy. He thinks he could put Mike's laugh on repeat for years and never get tired of it. 

"After a while, crocodile."

After their brief and detached goodbye, Eddie begins simple preparations for Thursdays.

He just has to hope it's not a complete trainwreck. 


End file.
